Comme promis à certains , voici un petit carnet descriptif de ce séjour de 3 semaines dans le Nord Ouest de la Namibie qui termine un petit tour d'Afrique Australe, je vais maintenant me consacrer à autre chose avant, sans doute, d'y revenir.
Merci à ceux qui m'ont aidé, en particulier à Jeff ( Max68).
Je dis bien purement descriptif, je ne pourrai pas consacrer le temps nécessaire à écrire un carnet comme celui du séjour au Botswana. Tant pis pour l'humour et le délire, j'ai d'ailleurs cru comprendre que ça en agace.
Je vais donc rester factuel, descriptif et m'appuyer sur les photos. Quelque chose de très classique sur VF.
Je passerai un peu vite sur le début du voyage consacré à Etosha qui a déjà été décrit en long en large et en travers ici. De même pour la fin du voyage.
Voici le programme :
02/Juillet : arrivée à Windhoek, courses , nuit à Londininghi ( réservé)
03/07 route vers Etosha, nuit à Okaukuejo ( réservé 1 an à l'avance)
04/07 Nuit à Halali ( réservé 1 an à l'avance)
05/07 Nuit à Halali
06/07 Nuit à Dolomite ( réservé 1 an à l'avance)
07/07 trajet vers Epupa, courses à Opuwo , Nuit à Epupa camp ( réservé)
08/07 Nuit à Epupa camp
09/07 courses à Opuwo, nuit en bivouac quelque part dans le lit de l'Hoarusib D3707
10/07 Arrivée dans Hartman par Orupembe et entrée par le sud de la vallée Bivouac Hartman Valley sud
11/07 Remontée de Hartmann par la piste ouest, bivouac Marienfuss
12/07 route versPuros par Joubert Pass/ Khumib riverbed, Camping Puros ( non réservé)
13/07 balade dans Puros Canyon, Camping Puros
14/07 Descente vers Sesfontein en passant par les riverbeds Ganamub puis Hoanib, nuit à Khowarib lodge ( réservé)
15/07 nature walk le matin près de Khowarib, Warmquelle l'après midi, nuit à Khowarib lodge
16/07 (samedi) Route vers le sud avec passage par Khamanjab pour les courses, descente vers le sud jusque Madisa camp ( non réservé)
17/07 tour du Brandberg par l'ouest en passant par Ugab riverbed, nuit au sud du Brandberg au community camp de elephant rock( non réservé)
17/07 Route jusqu'au Spitzkoppe, balades dans le site nuit au Spitzkoppe ( réservé)
18/07 route jusque walvis bay, balade jusque pelican point nuit à Oysterbox guesthouse ( réservé)
19/07 route vers seriem, nuit au camping du parc ( réservé 1 an à l'avance)
20/07 nuit camping Sesriem
21/07 route vers Mariental, nuit à Bagatelle
22/07 restitution des véhicules, vol retour
Le voyage se faisait en autonomie, les véhicules étaient loués chez ASCO car Hire deux 4x4 toyota Hilux legend 45 (3l diesel) équipement "safari", sans tentes sur le toit, nous avons préféré les tentes au sol : aucun regret à ce sujet, elle se montent très vite, se transportent très bien sur le toit et permettent de ne pas ramasser la tente quand on reste 2 nuits sur le même camping. J'ajoute qu'on y tient debout, qu'elles sont incomparablement plus spacieuses que les tentes de toit et que, si l'abus du bon vin sudaf de la veille vous force à vous lever la nuit, on peut le faire discrètement sans réveiller l'autre ou les autres s'il y a deux tentes sur le même toit.
A méditer.
Nous avions également 1 téléphone satellite.
Nous avions emporté nos propres sangles à cliquet, notre propre sangle de traction, des talkies pour communiquer d'une voiture à l'autre, une tablette et un gps garmin avec sur chacun tracks4Africa installé.
Le vol est assuré par Air Namibia, départ de Paris avec escale à francfort, 750 € A/R en réservant 6 mois avant.
J'avais préparé moi même tout le parcours, décidé des étapes et du loueur, mais, contrairement à mon habitude, j'ai demandé à Tourmaline d'effectuer toutes les réservations pour moi.
La raison est simple, nous sommes 3 couples et je ne veux pas être responsable des éventuels loupés, toujours possibles lors des réservations. J'avais donc établi le budget prévisionnel et reste assez surpris de constater que le devis de Tourmaline était inférieur de presque 100€ par personne.
A méditer.
A Windhoek, les représentant de ASCO nous attendaient à l'aéroport, ils n'attendaient pas que nous, nous étions au moins 30.
Malheureusement, 2 passagers n'ont pas récupéré leurs sacs immédiatement et ASCO, au lieu de nous diviser en 2 groupes, a fait attendre tout le monde pendant plus de 2 heures à l'aéroport...ceux qui connaissent peuvent juger de la qualité des divertissements sur place.
Je précise qu'ils avaient déplacé 4 minibus à l'aéroport.
A méditer.
La réception des voitures était impeccable, un peu rapide puisque du coup, tout le monde était pressé, nous devions faire nos courses, les supermarchés ferment l'après midi du samedi et nous sommes Samedi.
Du coup, lors de l'inspection nous loupons ça :
Nous resterons 1h30 chez ASCO à faire le tour des voitures et du matériel puis à écouter les conseils du représentant de Tourmaline, la plupart très utiles, quelques autres, en particuliers quand j'ai posé des questions sur le Kaokoland, bien moins pertinents.
Les conseils de sécurité rappelés lors de ce briefing sont primordiaux et doivent être suivis je pense, il ne sert pas à grand chose de foncer sur les gravel et c'est vraiment dangereux, les véhicules asco sont équipés de mouchards qui sonnent à chaque dépassement de la vitesse recommandée, pas la vitesse autorisée, nous devions donc rester sous les 80 km/h sur les gravel.
Libre à nous de dépasser, mais en cas d'accident, nous n'étions plus couverts. Une série de photos sont affichées pour rappeler l'accidentologie importante en Namibie, à côté de chaque photo, l'histoire de l'accident (gravel, ligne droite, 105 km/h, assurance : couverture maximale, frais 16 000€ à la charge du conducteur du fait de l'excès de vitesse...à méditer...).
Le temps passe et nous devons aller faire les courses, le très sympathique représentant de Tourmaline dont j'ai oublié le prénom, nous propose gentiment de nous accompagner jusqu'au supermarché.
Il est midi et la faim tenaille tellement certains estomacs que nous prenons le temps de nous sustenter au restau du coin.
Après tout, le SPAR ne ferme qu'à 16 h.
Fatale erreur que nous ne comprendrons qu'une fois dans le supermarché : le rayon alcool ferme à 13 heures !
Et nous attaquons les courses à 13h30
Décidément, c'est une malédiction !
C'est donc chargés de dizaines de litres de jus d'orange et d'au claire que nous nous dirigeons vers Londininghi.
J'avais quelques doutes sur cette adresse au sujet des propriétaires et en particuliers de Nathalie suite au propos qu'elle a tenu devant certains membres du forum.
Nous concernant, tout s'est extrêmement bien passé, non seulement le lodge est très bien, les chambres confortables, le patio agréable
et le restaurant tout simplement délicieux avec des vins superbes, mais en plus, nos hôtes se sont montrés très présents, toujours prêts à échanger (y compris sur la Namibie et les Namibiens sans que je ne retrouve quelque trace complaisance ou d'animosité)
Mieux, alors que je me lamentais de n'avoir pas pu trouver de boissons alcoolisées à Windhoek et sachant que j'allais devoir affronter un Dimanche entier de sobriété à Etosha, Nathalie nous proposera de nous revendre une partie de la cave au prix d'achat (!), sans parler des bières (re!).
Bref, Alexander et Nathalie nous ont bien rendu service.
Donc, je reste sur une excellente opinion au sujet de ce lodge, j'ai lu récemment sur TA qu'il serait en vente, ce que je ne peux pas confirmer.
La nuit est froide, 3 ° le matin (nous sommes à plus de 1500 m)
Le lendemain, route vers Etosha, route longue, morne, assez chiante, tout juste agrémentée de quelques phacochères.
434 km et 5h30 de route.
Les éléphants ne tardent pas à se montrer, mais doivent slalomer entre les 4x4,
nous arrivons à Okuakuejo, camp régulièrement qualifié d'usine à touristes.
A juste titre : le camping est blindé en Juillet, nous avons réservé un emplacement pour 2 et un premium waterhole lodge.
Le waterhole de ce camp est la raison de notre présence, il est réellement extraordinaire, fréquenté en permanence dès le coucher du soleil, tellement fréquenté qu'il en est fortement malodorant. Il est très bien aménagé avec des bancs répartis en demi cercle, les chalets sont un peu en retrait mais disposent d'un balcon qui permet d'observer facilement par dessus le public (voir la foule...).
Ces chalets sont vraiment très bien, mais n'ont que 4 places : 2 grands lits, 2 salles de bain, une petite pièce en bas où nous aurions facilement pu mettre 2 matelas, mais finalement nous déciderons d'aller tester le matériel de camping.
Les emplacements de camping sont poussiéreux et assez exigüs, ils ont un seul avantage à nos yeux : le braï dont les waterhole chalet sont curieusement démunis, nous avons ainsi pu prendre notre repas au coin de la braise,
100 m séparent notre emplacement de camping de notre chalet, que nous rejoignons ensuite pour compter les éléphants et les rhinos.
Hallucinant, un vrai défilé, au moins 10 rhino noirs vont passer, parfois 5 ou 6 en même temps.
Jusque 50 éléphants se bousculeront autour du trou d'eau, sans parler des girafes, des chacals et même une ou deux hyènes qui n'oseront pas approcher.
Alors que nous commencions à nous installer dans la tente, un tonnerre de rugissements fera trembler le camp, nous nous relevons et fonçons au trou d'eau, une dizaine de lions sont là, seuls : tout le monde est parti.
Le public afflue de tout le camps pour assister au spectacle, fugace : les lions ne font que passer, ils vont sans doute chasser, certains qui viennent d'un peu loin vont louper la séance.
Le chef est à droite sur la photo, en retrait, quand nous sommes arrivés, il avait déjà bu ainsi que 3 grandes lionnes qui sont hors champ à gauche. les copains du chalet n'ont rien raté...eux...
Pour un premier voyage en Afrique australe, on peut dire qu'ils ont le cul bordé de nouilles...Une demi journée à Etosha et ils en sont déjà à 10 rhino, 10 lions, 50 éléphants !
Ce parc tient ses promesses.
La nuit est raisonnablement froide, 5° le matin, nous prenons tranquillement le petit dej au restau du camp. C'est très bien et pas cher, le personnel est sympa et plutôt efficace contrairement à ce que j'avais entendu dire, mais les critiques portaient beaucoup sur les dîners au restaurant d'Okaukuejo, pas sur les petits déjeuners.
Etosha est un parc immense, on s'y balade en espérant y faire de belles rencontres, mais c'est très aléatoire, on peut aider le destin en compulsant les registres de rencontre remplis au camp par les touristes jour après jour.
Le problème, c'est que si un Kill de lion est annoncé, vous n'allez pas en profiter seuls et avez de grandes chances de devoir faire la queue.
Si vous tombez sur des lions en bord de piste, c'est très souvent un attroupement de voitures qui vous le signale.
Les paysages d'Etosha sont généralement plats, sauf à l'ouest du parc, complètement dénudés sur le pan
ou couverts de savane
ou de broussailles.
Les observations animales sont beaucoup plus faciles dans les prairies qui se situent surtout autour du pan. Il est facile d'y tirer quelques portraits.
Et puis bien sûr, il y a les points d'eau où tout peut arriver, c'est surtout là que l'on peut observer les kills, c'est autour du point d'eau que les lions aiment chasser.
Certains points d'eau sont entourés de verdure et suffisamment profonds pour vous donner l'impression d'être à Moremi (Botswana).
D'autres, souvent artificiels, sont une flaque au milieu du sahel et peuvent rassembler d'importantes hardes d'herbivores.
Un kill est signalé, nous y fonçons au petit matin, un rhino imprudent au bord d'un trou d'eau (inutile que je vous dise lequel, ils ont finit de le bouffer), nous assisterons même à une un scène torride qui semble assez fréquemment observée dans ce parc.
Le lions observés à 50 m de la route ou du point d'eau, sous un arbre à la sieste, sont fréquemment rencontrés ici, je vous les épargne, les photos sont moyennes.
Un lion à a sieste peut donner un cliché intéressant quand il a la gentillesse de s'arrêter au bord de la route, voir, sur la route, beaucoup moins quand il se repose à l'ombre et qu'on le prend au zoom.
Nous aurons droit aussi à la famille guépard, très sympa qui se déplace le long de la route et qui va vite générer un embouteillage.
Puis à ce rhinocéros qui passera entre nos deux voitures.
HALALI
Nous y passerons 2 nuits, les emplacements de camping sont moins poussiéreux et plus spacieux qu'à Okaukuejo.
Les blocs ablutions y sont aussi nombreux et aussi bien tenus.
Le trou d'eau est super et très fréquenté, mais il est trop excentré, il faut bien 5 mn à pied pour le rejoindre du camping, les chalets sont encore plus en retrait.
Des gradins naturels surplombent le trou d'eau qui est très bien fréquenté.
Comme à Okaukuejo, on y voit beaucoup d'éléphants et de rhinocéros qui se toisent et tentent de s'intimider mutuellement,
nous y avons vu des animaux plus rarement observés comme cet énorme porc épic, ce lièvre également hors norme.
Nous aurons aussi la chance d'observer une troupe d'une dizaine de hyènes, leur manège était très organisé, elles s'abreuvaient à tour de rôle tandis que les autres restait à la lisière de la clairière, le ballet durera une vingtaine de minutes.
Que ce soit le lièvre, le porc épic ou les hyènes, pas une seule photo nette, le zoom bouffe trop de lumière et même à 3200 iso, je ne pouvais pas mettre une vitesse assez conséquente pour photographier correctement des animaux aussi remuants.
Je me suis levé à 5 h pour voir s'il y avait plus de faune, ma déception fut grande : il n'y avait personne, pas plus de spectateurs que d'acteurs.
J'ai tout de même attendu et ai été récompensé : un très beau léopard s'est montré, très prudent, il est sorti des fourrés pour y retourner immédiatement, une fois, deux fois, juste à la limite de l'éclairage. Puis il a semblé décidé de s'approcher pour boire. C'est à ce moment, sur ma droite, qu'a retenti un énorme juron guttural accompagnant un bruit de chute : un sud africain lève tôt mais qui avait oublié sa frontale s'est étalé dans les rochers...le léopard a décampé bien sûr...
Le gars s'était amoché le bras, je lui ai demandé si ça allait, ça allait. Il m'a demandé si j'avais vu quelque chose, non, rien du tout...
Bah..de toutes façons avec un léopard aussi remuant, je n'aurais pas fait mieux qu'avec le porc épic...
NAMUTONI
Nous n'avons pas dormi dans ce camp, mais nous y sommes passés faire un tour et c'est à mon avis le meilleur camping des trois ( gazon verdoyant et peu de poussière, arbres et des emplacements ombragés), par contre le trou d'eau semble bien moins fréquenté.
LA PISTE VERS DOLOMITE
La piste vers Dolomite est certainement la plus barbante du parc, une ligne droite qui n'en finit pas, certes jalonnée de points d'eau, mais la plupart étaient à peu près désertés, les 3 ou 4 premiers étaient par contre très entourés avec quelques scènes marrantes
et nous avons vu pas mal d'éléphants au bord de la piste
et des lions à la sieste (trop loin).
Il faut bien compter 4 heures entre Okaukuejo et Dolomite.
Il y a énormément de tôles ondulées, du coup, soit on respecte les 40 km/h du parc mais il faut rouler à moins de 30 pour que ce soit supportable, soit on accélère franchement autour de 80 km/h. C'est la solution choisie par la majorité des véhicules que nous croiserons. Malheureusement, la fêlure sur l'armature qui tient le bidon d'un des 2 véhicules va provoquer la chute de l'attache du bidon, puis du bidon lui même. Nous nous en rendrons compte très vite, mais nous avions croisé 1 véhicule, le temps de faire demi tour et de retrouver l'endroit de la perte, le bidon avait été ramassé, nous avons retrouvé et gardé l'attache cassée comme preuve pour ASCO.
En passant Olifantsrus, les collines se font plus présentes, un dernier point d'eau nous offrira de belles rencontre ornithologiques : les vautours et toute une famille de short tail eagle.
Puis vient le point d'eau de Dolomite, superbe lodge niché sur sa colline
Ce lodge est assez décrié comme étant très surfait et présentant des prestations inférieures au prix demandé, soit 85 à 100 € par personne et par nuit. C'est cher c'est vrai, d'autant que le lodge présente des défauts :
- Il s'étire en longueur sur toute la colline, quand vous êtes tout au bout comme nous, ça fait une sacrée trotte pour aller au restau ou au bar qui se situent côté entrée.
- Pour pallier à ce problème, le lodge est équipé de voiturettes qui viennent vous chercher au parking ou vous transportent sur le petit chemin de pierre qui slalome entre les chalets. Ces véhicules fonctionnent au diesel et sont bruyants, ils auraient sans doute mieux fait d'utiliser des voiturettes électriques type voitures de golf.
- Entre le coucher et le lever du soleil, on doit emprunter ces voiturettes car le camp n'est pas clôturé.
- Le personnel, s'il n'est pas désagréable, n'est pas aussi avenant qu'il devrait l'être dans ce genre d'établissement. Mais là, je pinaille un peu.
Par contre il faut dire que la position de ce lodge lui confère une vue sur la plaine d'Etosha absolument incroyable.
Nous étions juste au dessus du point d'eau et , même si l'on est loin, c'est un spectacle magnifique de voir ces troupes d'éléphants, de koudous, d'élans du cap, de girafes etc...venir de désaltérer.
Nos amis qui étaient de l'autre côté (nous avions pris le chalet deluxe pour compenser notre nuit sous la tente à Okuakuejo), ont assisté à un coucher de soleil incroyable sur la plaine avec une troupe d'éléphants qui passaient à leurs pieds.
Super un nouveau carnet ! 🙂
J'espère que le trou d'eau de Namutoni sera plus fréquenté l'an prochain car on y passera une nuit.
J'adore le lièvre géant qui n'est pas sans me rappeler ça:
Je dis bien purement descriptif, je ne pourrai pas consacrer le temps nécessaire à écrire un carnet comme celui du séjour au Botswana. Tant pis pour l'humour et le délire...
Intox? 😇
Pour toi, il doit être plus facile et moins chronophage de déconner que d'être sérieux, non? 😉
Nous partons du lodge le matin vers 9 h, la destination c'est Opuwo pour faire quelques courses puis Epupa camp.
391 km - 6 heures
45 km pour aller jusque Galton Gate, nous irons visiter les points d'eau sur la route, mais il n'y avait pas grand chose à voir.
Le problème de la barrière vétérinaire se pose puisqu'il nous reste de la viande et, bien que nous allions vers le Nord, ce passage est connu pour être un poil tatillon et les viandes, même sous vide, même achetées dans le parc ou à Windhoek sont régulièrement confisquées. Nous extrayons donc toutes les viandes des frigos et les planquons sous les banquettes arrières.
Les frigos sont bel et bien fouillés et même vidés à la porte, nul doute que toute la viande aurait été confisqué. Mais nous n'avons que des liquides et quelques fruits et légumes qui passent sans problème (ça aussi ça coince parfois).
Après quelques km sur le bitume, nous tournons à gauche sur la D3709, une gravel assez bien entretenue,
pas mal de monde sur le bord, Herero puis premiers Himbas.
Nous prenons notre premier stoppeur qui va à Opuwo.
Opuwo est une cuvette, l'arrivée est impressionnante quand on surplombe cette petite ville d'où se dégage une poussière jaunâtre en permanence du fait de la circulation des voitures dans les rues non bitumées (c'est à dire, presque toutes).
Le supermarché, c'est tout un programme, toutes les ethnies du coin s'y retrouvent avec en plus les touristes de passage. Himbas, hereros, Damaras, Bantous déambulent sur le parking, y tiennent de petites échoppes, discutent le bout de gras parfois assis sur le trottoir.
L'intérieur du supermarché est à l'avenant.
Les gamins qui proposent de surveiller les voitures ne sont pas oppressants même s'ils sont plutôt nombreux, une fois qu'on en a choisi 1 ou 2, c'est réglé , la mendicité n'est pas non plus agressive (pas lors de notre premier passage en tous cas, nous verrons plus tard que le samedi, ça peut être différent).
Nous prenons le déjeuner dans le restau à droite, très sympa, pas cher et on y mange correctement.
Les courses faites, nous repartons vers Epupa sur la D3700.
Pas trop mal entretenue, il y avait d'ailleurs des travaux, mais quand on arrive au nord où le relief est plus varié avec de nombreux lits de rivières à traverser, il y a pas mal de gouttières bien profondes à franchir, avec des pentes très raides et surtout un replat très court voir inexistant qui peut-être franchement gênant pour un véhicule un peu long comme un camping car. Nous en avons discuté à Epupa avec des français qui avaient fait le trajet, ils ont un peu galéré, ont du passer très doucement les lits de rivières et ont frotté à de nombreuses reprises, le camping car en gardait quelques stigmates.
Les premiers baobabs.
Pas mal de gamins le long de cette gravel, qui parfois sortent en courant des buissons pour vous demander de vous arrêter afin de quémander des gâteries, quand vous en voyez trente sortir brusquement du bush sans prévenir, ça peut impressionner.
Nous arrivons à Epupa camp pour y passer une bonne nuit, bien chaude, la température est de 30° le jour et 18° au petit matin ! Plutôt agréable pour un hiver...🙂
Notre camp installé, un jeune himba portant le tee shirt du camping , nous propose presque gêné et à voix très basse, une excursion avec guide, le lendemain, dans un campement Himba à une dizaine de km d'ici. Ses dents sont taillées en pointe et ses incisives bisées selon la tradition de ce peuple longtemps persécuté et réduit à l'esclavage, ils se mutilaient ainsi afin de diminuer leur valeur marchande en espérant qu'on ne voudrait pas d'eux comme esclaves...une tradition qu'il serait bien utile de supprimer...
Je ne suis pas très chaud, je sais que nous en rencontrerons pas mal sur le parcours et nul besoin de se prêter à ce genre de simagrées, mais je me sens un peu seul, les 5 autres sont plutôt enthousiastes et je décide de les accompagner.
Demain est un autre jour.
HUIT JUILLET, VISITE GUIDEE D'UN VILLAGE HIMBA.
Notre guide est à l'heure, vers 8h30 le matin, il est himba lui même et s'appelle Jorah ( quelque chose comme ça), Van's blanches immaculées au pieds, chemise Tommy Hilfiger sans manches, très stylée, on peut dire que ce garçon semble avoir renoncé à la vie traditionnelle.
Nous passons prendre un gros sac de farine, du sucre, de l'huile et du tabac puis réglons la somme convenue de 150N$ par personne.
10 km plus loin sur la piste de Opuwo, nous bifurquons à gauche
quand un type improbable, d'âge indéfinissable, vêtu d'un simple pagne de peaux de bêtes, un très gros collier autour du cou, un petit calot sur la tête, absolument toutes ses dents sont taillées en pointe à l'exception des incisives manquantes, il tient à la main une machette et une espèce de hache, ou de gouge.
Bref, un homme himba, il est assez grand et assez costaud, pour tout dire : impressionnant, tellement que pas un d'entre nous n'aura l'idée de prendre une photo. il taille le bout de gras avec Jorah, tout sourire, nous salue et se barre en courant comme il est venu;
Nous nous garons sur le...parking, devant le village et Jorah nous fait un petit briefing : le village est organisé en 2 cercles concentriques,
l'enceinte extérieure et un kraal central où est parqué le bétail, une case est importante, celle dite "case du chef" ( qui, du reste, n'est pas forcément là et qui ne passera peut-être jamais dormir dedans), entre le kraal et la case du chef se situe le feu sacré. Nous ne devons pas passer entre le kral et la case du chef. nous pouvons photographier ce qu'on veut, mais il est de bon ton de montrer la photo à la personne qui a été photographiée.
Il y a environs une douzaine de case dans le village, chacune pour une famille. quelques greniers et gardes manger.
Trois femmes sont de corvée pour nous accueillir, l'une nous fait un peu d'artisanat, ( la copine à côté est là en back up au cas où la première flanche)
la seconde prépare le beurre mélangé à de la poudre de fer et des graines pilées de mopane, la préparation sent très bon.
La troisième femme a la tâche la plus rude, nous faire le démonstration de fumigations de l'entrejambe ( sic : c'est pour être agréable à leur compagnon), des ports de divers bijoux, du port de la coiffe de mariée...elle n'est pas à la fête et ça se voit, on dirait même qu'elle se fait chier gravement, mais Sophie parviendra assez facilement à la dérider :
prévoyez un smartphone ou une tablette avec quelques photos de mariage, baptême etc, ça les fait bien marrer...ce que je peux comprendre en jetant un coup d'oeil à mes propres photos de mariage...
Bon, en tous cas, lui, il n'apprécie pas du tout.
Le village continue de vaquer à ses occupations, les femmes et les enfants bossent et les hommes ne foutent pas grand chose, leur tâches habituelles consistant à garder le bétail, construire les huttes et palissades ou chasser.
Pendant ce temps, des gamins déménagent les chevreaux
Regardent les autres déménager des chevreaux
Boudent
Se goinfrent
Ou embêtent leur tata qui en bave à préparer la soupe
Ou encore, finissent de démolir la carriole de tonton.
Euro de foot oblige, nous avons emporté quelques ballons de foot que nous avons l'intention de distribuer, mais Jorah me dissuade de le faire ici, il me recommande de le faire plutôt au jardin d'enfant d'Epupa. Dommage, mais c'est vrai que le ballon aurait vite fait d'atterrir dans le feu sacré...
Pour finir, on nous proposera des souvenir fabriqués par les femmes du village, nous essayons de faire jouer la concurrence, mais les prix sont les mêmes à chaque étalage, que fait la DGCCRF locale ?
Les filles font le plein et nous repartons.
En guise de surprise et pour finir sur une note optimiste, Jorah nous conduira visiter un cimetière himba.
Mon sentiment sur cette visite est ambigu, indéniablement , beaucoup de choses préparées et des femmes qui ne semblent pas à la fête, mais en même temps beaucoup de fraîcheur et de vie. On est pas dans un décor de film, il en rajoutent, c'est clair, mais pas tant que ça au vu des divers villages que nous croiserons par la suite, ou au vu des hommes et femmes himbas rencontrés le long du chemin.
Histoire éternelle de minorités cherchant à garder leur identité, certaines y parviennent après tout.
Dernière chose, ce village a déjà été visité plusieurs fois par des voyageurs fréquentant le forum, je me rappelle en particulier de ce carnet : https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=7376342;search_string=namibie%20en%20janvier
En voilà une agréable surprise! Dommage pour le surplus d'humour qui faisait tant de bien, mais merci infiniment de quand même faire ce carnet.
Photos superbes comme d'hab.
Finalement, tu as pris gout aux tentes sur le sol. Les avais-tu emmenées de France, ou est-ce de la location faite par ASCO?
Nous consacrons l'après midi d'abord au repos car il fait très chaud
puis à une balades aux chutes qui se trouvent côté opposé dans le village.
Nous croisons des français, il y a 3 emplacements occupés par des français à Epupa camp, les autre emplacements occupés le sont par des groupes d''espagnols, bref, ces français nous indiquent que le match de foot du soir, la demi finale France/Allemagne, sera retransmise...au poste de police ! Et que nous sommes autorisés à nous y rendre pour y assister.
Par exemple !
Nous prenons rendez vous.
Et nous partons voir les chutes qui tiennent leur promesse, c'est superbe.
Des femmes himbas font leur toilette sur bord,
il vaut mieux ne pas glisser dans l'eau.
D'autres rentrent des courses.
Le soir venu, nous partons vers le centre du village, le poste de police se trouve au sommet de la colline, on le voit de loin grâce au pilonne éclairé de l'antenne radio.
Il est complètement ceinturé par une enceinte barbelée, nous trouvons l'entrée, tout est calme, à 20 m de la porte, un petit bâtiment, une silhouette massive éclairée de dos fait les 100 pas, on distingue nettement un fusil d'assaut qu'il porte en bandoulière.
Je le hèle et demande la permission d'entrer, les copains m'ont gentiment poussé devant prétextant une meilleure pratique de l'anglais.
J'explique à la sentinelle le pourquoi de notre présence, il dégaine son téléphone et cause.
Il rengaine et me dit d'attendre.
Je n'en mène pas large, je suis dans l'axe de la kalashnikov.
Un homme en civil arrive, c'est le chef, il m'explique que la télé est en panne et que la soirée est annulée...cruelle déception, nous lui demandons s'il sait où on peut voir le match, mais il ne sait pas.
Nous déambulons le long de la rivière, de lodge en lodge et finalement nous en trouvons un qui retransmet le match au bar, les français du camping ont trouvé l'adresse avant nous, ce lodge , l'Omarunga lodge, est tenu par des namibiens germanophones et très pro allemands (c'est peu de le dire...).
Nous avons gagné 2-0, beaucoup gueulé, pas mal chanté, un peu chambré et payé pas mal de bières pour nous faire pardonner...
Ben oui, mais avec tout ça; on va se retrouver en plein milieu de Hartman Valley pour la finale après demain !
J'espère qu'il y a une télé là bas 😐...
DE ÉPUPA À CHÉPAOU
L'étape du jour promet d'être rude : nous devons retourner à Opuwo y faire de courses pour 5 jours et le plein d'essence, puis nous devons rouler le plus possible sur la D3707 pour se rapprocher au maximum de Hartman Valley.
Avant notre départ, nous constatons avoir été arnaqués par un homme qui s'est fait passer la veille pour un membre du staff de Epupa camp et nous a vendu des paquets de bois du camp. Le gars du camp, voyant que nous en avions pris est fort justement venu nous demander de le payer, nous lui avons expliqué, il nous a demandé si le vendeur portait le tee shirt de Epupa camp qu'il ne portait évidemment pas. Nous avons donc payé le bois une deuxième fois et avons décrit notre voleur en espérant qu'ils l'empêcheront de nuire à nouveau. Si notre petite mésaventure peut servir à quelqu'un, tant mieux. J'ajoute qu'il est sans doute plus simple d'acheter du bois au bord de la piste, on en trouve un peu partout.
Cette petite leçon ne nous a coûté que 90N$, pas de quoi en faire un fromage.
3 et demie heures plus tard et 177 km nous sommes à Opuwo en fin de matinée, le vent s'est levé et les nuages de poussière qui se dégagent de la ville sont impressionnants, on a l'impression de se jeter dans un brasier.
La seule station service ouverte est blindée : il y a la queue, le débit des pompes est lent et les véhicules à remplir gourmands, nous sommes partis pour une heure d'attente.
Deux groupes se forment donc, l'un va au courses et deux chauffeurs attendent leur tour.
Si l'attente à la pompe se fait calmement, il n'en va pas de même des courses, l'ambiance n'est plus la même, le plein fait, je me rends au supermarché et constate la différence. Est-ce le vent et la poussière ? Le fait qu'on soit un samedi matin ? je ne sais pas.
Il y a a plus de monde en tous cas, les gamins sont littéralement couverts d'une poussière farineuse blanche, ce qui leur confère des airs de zombies, ils sont plus nombreux et plus agressifs, il y a de la viande soule aussi et la mendicité est nettement plus insistante, dans et autour du supermarché. Il y aura même des tentatives de fauche directement dans les sacs tandis que nous remplissons les 4x4 des courses que nous venons de finir.
Vu l'ambiance, nous décidons de doubler la garde des voitures en désignant deux gamins supplémentaires choisis parmi les plus grands et nous retournons au même restau que lors de notre premier passage goûter un repos bien mérité avant d'attaquer la deuxième partie de cette longue étape.
Entre temps, le supermarché ferme, le parking se vide et l'ambiance se calme.
quand nous repartons vers 14 h 30, il ne reste plus grand monde, nous payons les 10n$ à chaque gamin, faisons une distribution de pommes aux autres qui sont restés et nous repartons.
la première partie de la D3707 n'est pas la plus belle, elle n'est pas très difficile à conduire, c'est juste qu'elle est longue et qu'on y roule à une vitesse de 30-40 km/h.
La fatigue et la lassitude gagne certains d'entre nous, nous faisons halte dans le lit de l'Hoarusib après 2h30 de route pour 100 km.
C'est tranquille, désert, pas de village vu depuis des km et des km, nous commençons de nous installer quand une femme himba arrive, sortie de nulle part, nous interpelle à grand coup de "moro-moro" " ça va ?" " ben peri-naua, carrément !"
Voilà voilà, ben c'est pas tout ça, mais on a des tentes à monter hein?
Pas de problème, je m'assied là...et elle le fait, nous observant décharger la voiture, le bois, faire un trou pour le feu, monter les tentes, les tables, les chaises, mettre les sacs dans les tentes.
Finalement, on a tout fait en une demi heure et, pour la récompenser de sa patience, nous lui offrons un paquet de gâteau.
C'était une erreur : 20 mn plus tard, 5 autres jeunes himbas arrivent et adoptent la même technique, nous leurs faisons comprendre que il n'y a "no more sweets" et que c'est " apérotime", mots magiques qui suffisent à débloquer la situation : ils nous saluent et nous quittent.
Le repos tant attendu.
Le lendemain, tout est plié, embarqué en 1/2 heure sous les yeux de quelques himbas gourmands et incrédules ( mais pourquoi ils s'agitent comme ça ces blancs ?).
Nous repartons vers Hartman Valley, les paysages sont de plus en plus beaux.
La tablette qui nous sert de GPS nous fait un gag magnifique : l'appli T4A me demande de me reconnecter à internet pour vérifier mes droits d'utilisateur...me reconnecter à internet !!!
Quand on connait les endroits fréquentés par les utilisateurs de T4A, on peut se demander si cette injonction de re-connection est bien raisonnable.
Donc 1 seul 4x4 a un GPS, le 4x4 qui nous suit en a marre d'être dans nos fumées, nous le laissons donc passer devant leurs donnant consigne de s'arrêter à chaque bifurcation.
ce qu'ils font scrupuleusement, sauf pour l'une d'entre elle, après Orupembe, ils continuent sur la D3707 au lieu de tourner à droite vers hartman, à leur décharge, il n'y a pas de panneau, mais les consignes sont les consignes sabre de bois !
Enfin si, il y en a un de panneau , en plus...
Nous roulions depuis 3 heures et avions couvert 85 km, la piste, rocailleuse et peu roulante au début s'améliore progressivement, pour devenir une belle gravel 40 km avant Orupembe.
Et voilà où nous en sommes :
Il leur aura fallu un bon quart d' heure avant de se rendre compte de notre absence derrière eux, malheureusement, la distance était trop grande pour que nous puissions les avertir par les talkies, nous les voyons donc revenir 1/2 heure plus tard et repartons vers hartman valley.
Les premiers km sont tristes, il y a peu de relief, nous roulons dans une plaine pierreuse, désolée, pénible à rouler du fait des trépidations provoquées par les cailloux.
Il n'y a rien, quelques arbres parviennent tout de même à pousser là, suffisamment rares pour être signalés sur T4A.
Nous croisons tout de même quelques girafes accablées de chaleur.
Il fait très chaud, nous nous arrêtons près du seul arbre du coin (il est bel et bien indiqué sur T4A).
Le terrain devient à nouveau plus chaotique, plus difficile, nous roulons moins vite mais les paysages sont plus beaux,
nous descendons vers Hartman Valley et arrivons bientôt à la limite du parc de la Skeleton coast avec le fameux panneau.
Un peu plus loin, nous croisons un lit de rivière, il y a quelques traces qui partent à droite, nous n'avons pas l'intention de laisser une empreinte qui pourrait être définitive, alors nous suivons cette piste et remontons jusqu'au bout cette petite vallée, il y a des arbres, peu de cailloux, de belles falaises autour, des empreintes de girafes un peu partout.
Nous roulons depuis presque 5 heures, il est 14 heures et il fait très chaud, l'endroit est idéal, nous montons le camp.
Quel silence, il n'y a pas de vent , c'est magnifique.
Nous étudions la carte pour le parcours du lendemain,
2 options, soit nous démontons le camp, nous remontons la vallée pour basculer vers Marienfus par un passage difficile, soit nous laissons le camp tel quel et revenons après avoir fait un aller retour au Nord de Hartman.
Mes troupes sont plus motivées que je ne croyais et ils votent à l'unanimité pour l'option 1, la plus dure.
Merde...😮
Nous allons profiter des paysages en escaladant la colline au Nord
Le camp est à droite sur la photo ( non : l'autre droite...), minuscule , près de l'arbre.
Au loin à l'Ouest, les grandes dunes de la skeleton coast
Sur les collines minérales, la vie trouve tout de même sa place
Nous dégustons ces heures de solitudes.
Au petit matin, le soleil enflamme la plaine
Et les dunes resplendissent
Magnifiques photos comme d'hab!
Comment se fait-il qu'il fasse si chaud? Pourtant tu y étais en juillet? Toi aussi tu t'es fait avoir par le faux hiver namibien?
Le camp est à droite sur la photo, minuscule, près de l'arbre.
En fait le camp est à gauche!!
Lorsque ceux qui ont continué tout droit alors qu'ils devaient s'arrêter à chaque intesetion sont revenus, les as-tu houspillé?
Comment avez-vous réglé le problème de connexion internet?
PS : quand je click sur les photos maintenant, elles deviennent plus grandes. Ç'est un nouveau truc chez VF ou c'est seulement chez moi?
Magnifiques photos comme d'hab!
Comment se fait-il qu'il fasse si chaud? Pourtant tu y étais en juillet? Toi aussi tu t'es fait avoir par le faux hiver Namibien?
En fait le camp est à gauche!!
Lorsque ceux qui ont continué tout droit alors qu'ils devaient s'arrêter à chaque intesetion sont revenus, les as-tu houspillé?
Comment avez-vous réglé le problème de connexion internet?
PS : quand je click sur les photos maintenant, elles deviennent plus grandes. Ç'est un nouveau truc chez VF ou c'est seulement chez moi?
😮 oups, oui : à gauche!
Non, on ne se houspille pas dans Hartman Valley, on lance un regard lourd de reproches et on secoue la tête en émettant des "tss tss tss".
Concernant la connection internet, je te laisse deviner 😏
( pour ceux qui se posent la question, c'est la même réponse que pour la télé. ..)
Et pour les photos, c'est un nouveau truc. Ça m'a posé un problème puisque les photos doivent avoir au moins 2000 pixels de côté et je les avais toutes formatées à 1000.
Ça m'a posé un problème puisque les photos doivent avoir au moins 2000 pixels de côté et je les avais toutes formatées à 1000.
Vu que je suis nulle en photo, je ne savais même pas qu'on pouvait dimensionner la taille des photos!!!! N'empêche que j'aime bien de pouvoir agrandir les photos, c'est sympa.
Pour la tente, avant que tu ne me répondes, je me disais que finalement, celle de l'an dernier, tu aurais mieux fait de l'avoir gardé, stocké quelque part. Ça t'aurait fait une économie de location cette année.
Est-ce que c'est plus cher de prendre les tentes au sol que les tentes sur le toit?
Et pour la chaleur, était-ce habituel qu'il fasse si chaud à hartman valley?
Est-ce qu'au moins le soir, ça se rafraichit?
C'était un peu compliqué de stocker la tente et ce n'est pas plus cher de louer des tentes au sol.
Il faisait inhabituellement chaud au nord, 30 à 40 dans la journée et plus de 15 le matin, les soirées étaient très agréables, vers 20-25. Nous avons été plusieurs fois dérangés par le vent le matin qui soufflait malicieusement dès que nous commencions à replier les tentes, des vents thermiques assez prévisibles en fait.
Le camp plié, nous partons pour une bonne étape de promenade.
premier arrêt après 3 minutes de piste pour demander à ce quidam si tout allait bien
Il avait l'air trop absorbé par ses pensées et ne nous a pas répondu
Deuxième stop tout près également, au bidon vert, pour exprimer notre désarroi : nous n'avons pas trouvé de télé...
Et nous voilà partis sur cette piste le plus souvent très roulante, mais parfois un peu mouvementée, en tous cas sillonnant des paysages exceptionnels.
Les dunes sont de plus en plus proches sur notre gauche.
Nous croisons régulièrement des springbok
Des oryx
des outardes de Kohri
les couleurs de hartman valley
des jaunes, des ocres, du bleu
et même du vert !
Nous arrivons tout au nord près du cordon de dunes qui jouxte la Kunene et décidons d'y aller marcher pendant 1 heure et demie, nous sommes montés en 2 heures sans nous presser pour couvrir ces 80 km.
La balade dans ces dunes est bien agréable, il ne fait pas encore trop chaud, autour de 30°.
Que dire ... c'est magnifique ... merci Erwan 🙂 🙂 🙂
Quelques mois avant toi nous avons aussi eu la chance de voir ces paysages, il y avait juste du vert au lieu du jaune.
Ce sont des paysages qui m'ont vraiment beaucoup plu.
Nous n'étions pas monté aussi au nord que vous, après la piste d'atterrissage nous avions pris la piste qui gravie les dunes sur la gauche.
On avait eu un peu de mal à monter et comme nous n'étions qu'à un seul véhicule nous avons adopté une règle qui disait "je veux toujours être sûr de pouvoir revenir sur mes pas sans "trop" de risques".
Donc nous n'avions pas voulu descendre de l'autre côté du cordon de dunes. Nous nous sommes juste limité à une balade assez courte à cause des 40 et quelques degrés qui régnaient.
Salut Jeff.
Il n'y avait pas trop de difficultés à aller vers le nord, de plus Sera Kafema n'est pas loin, l'avantage de n'y être pas allé c'est d'avoir une bonne raison d'y retourner 😉
De mon côté, comme nous n'avons pas marché jusqu'à la Kunene, nous avons ce regret et nous sommes promis d'y retourner pour finir le boulot. ..😏
C'est vrai qu'à 2 4x4 , on se pose moins de questions ceci dit.
Magnifique comme d'habitude ce nouveau carnet merci !
Et une vitesse de rédaction supersonique en plus .
On aura droit à quelques traits d'humour quand même?
J'ai rattrapé mon retard de lecture et suis encore tourneboulée par les fumigations de l'entrejambe...
VERS MARIENFLUSS
Environs 90 km et 3h30
La chaleur commence à s'installer, nous déjeunons tant bien que mal à l'ombre ténue des voitures et nous prenons la direction sud, nous aurions pu continuer sur la piste qui allait vers l'Est, mais les panneaux d'interdiction se multiplient et nous redoutons un peu de nous retrouver dans l'enceinte de Sera Kafema et d'y être mal accueilli. A postériori, je pense que c'était idiot, nous avons croisé 3 4x4 du lodge qui revenaient de l'aéroport et leur staff nous faisaient des signes plutôt amicaux, ils ne croisent quand même pas grand monde par ici.
Nous reprenons donc la piste vers le sud et bifurquons à l'est au premier croisement, ce qui nous conduit pile à l'aéroport...et là, pas de piste, nous revenons en arrière, prenons une autre piste et nous tombons sur le milieu de la piste d'atterrissage, nous essayons d'autres options qui nous ramènent toujours là.
Nous décidons de longer la piste sur toute sa longueur et finissons par trouver, de l'autre côté, une petite piste qui s'éloigne vers le sud et qui semble être la bonne.
Pour ceux qui feront ce trajet à l'avenir, suivez plutôt les dunes et prenez direction sud quand vous êtes près du lodge, en plus, vous verrez la Kunene !😉
C'est pas tout, mais on traîne, on traîne et on est pas arrivé à Marienfluss avec tout ça !
Pour compliquer les choses, les belles pistes de sable peu profond font place à des pistes beaucoup plus rocailleuses, oubliés les 50-60 voir 80 km/h, là, nous sommes scotchés à 30, pas plus, il faut freiner sans arrêt pour passer de petits rochers.
Bientôt nous commençons la petite ascension de la barrière rocheuse qui nous sépare de Marienfluss, Jeff m'a annoncé une ou deux petites difficultés, en approchant du sommet (très modeste) de la colline, je rencontre effectivement 2 petites rampes bien raides mais très courtes, l'une montante de même pas 15 m et l'autre descendante de 20 à 30 m. Pas de quoi en faire un plat en effet, me dis-je.
Et bien si, alors que je termine ma descente, une sensation étrange ainsi qu'un bruit peu catholique attirent mon attention, je m'arrête et, oui : nous sommes bel et bien à plat à l'arrière à gauche.
C'est lourd ces sacrées roues !
on peut voir que les filles sont au taquet pour nous donner un coup de main...
Le changement de roue nous prend une demie heure, il nous faut aussi regonfler...la cause de l'éclatement était d'ailleurs là, nous avions dégonflé à 1 bar 5 dans Hartman, ce n'était pas fondamentalement nécessaire, sauf tout au Nord où le sable est plus profond. Ensuite, pour passer la zone rocheuse, j'aurais du regonfler , mais je savais que je risquais d'avoir à dégonfler à nouveau dans Marienfluss.
Bref : la flemme...
Ça coûte cher des fois la flemme...
Mais là, c'est bon, on a compris, on regonfle ! et on repart.
Je pense en avoir fini avec les difficultés, mais en fait, elles n'ont pas encore commencé. Pourtant tout a l'air bien, nous roulons sur du sable peu profond, c'est un paysage de plaine, je vois le mont Ondau devant moi, puis sur la gauche, nous en faisons le tour par le sud , mais nous sommes déjà dans Marienfluss...enfin, je pense...et bien non, nous n'y sommes pas encore, il nous reste ça à passer et j'avais zappé :
La première alerte sera un portail grillagé, ouvert près duquel un écriteau indique :
"BOOM GATE after this point no turn back possible"
Ajoutez à ça le soleil qui décline et qui vient de basculer derrière la colline à droite, c'est pas rassurant rassurant, surtout quand vous venez d'exploser un pneu...
On y va quand même, pas trop le choix en fait ! rapidement, les voitures se retrouvent dans un couloir assez étroit qui confirme bien que le "turn back " est utopique.
Là on se dit : pourvu qu'on ne croise personne.
Et puis bientôt, un gouffre !
Enfin, non, c'est pas un gouffre, c'est la piste qui prend une pente carrément déraisonnable, alors quand on est au volant, tout au bord, ben on la voit même plus la piste !
On descend, on va regarder, c'est vraiment raide, on remonte difficilement à la voiture et le couloir est toujours aussi étroit. Je me vois ipso facto déléguer le droit de descendre les 2 4x4 ! Merci les gars, ça fait plaisir ! Ben c'est toi qui nous a amené là aussi et puis c'est toi qui a le plus d'expérience..
Merci les gars...
Je descends le premier, j'ai la gorge un peu sèche.
Pour le second je dois remettre les pierres en place en remontant.
Et puis je descends le second.
Le manège se répète 100 m plus loin, toujours aussi raide et encore plus long.
T4A appelle ça " Very bad extrême road" " bad bad road" , Jeff il appelle ça "une petite difficulté"
Ce mec doit avoir des couilles grosses comme des melons !😏
Enfin la terre promise, enfin Marienfluss , enfin nous sortons de l'ombre.
Nous croisons quelques campements Himba et nous nous installons au hasard sur la plaine dans ce nouveau décor de rêve.
Marienfluss est tout aussi belle le matin que le soir, nous croisons quelques villages himbas
mais bientôt, le doux velours de la piste de sable
est remplacé par la rocaille, la caillasse, le cahot et le bringuebalement tintinnabulant de nos véhicules. il faut dire que les fixations des high lift jacks à l'avant, comme celles des bouteilles de gaz à l'arrière ne sont pas des plus solides. Celles des crics sont sécurisées par des rilsans, l'un d'entre eux a pété et nous avons perdu l'écrou, il a fallu le fixer avec une sangle, les bouteilles de gaz de secours à l'arrière sont sécurisées par du fil de fer, toutes choses à prévoir pour ce genre d'expédition.
Nous arrivons au bidon rouge et très vite deux autres 4x4 nous y rejoignent, des sud af en goguette, nous sympathisons, faisons les photos souvenir et discutons
du parcours,
ils arrivent de Joubert pass qu'ils décrivent comme abominable, mais ils ont trouvé que la D3703 était également "terrible", ce qui nous rassure aussitôt sur Joubert Pass. Je me permets de leur déconseiller formellement de ressortir de Marienfluss par Boom gate comme ils l'avaient prévu en leur signalant que c'est sans doute pire. Ils décident alors de zapper Marienfluss pour filer vers Hartman directement, c'est dommage, mais ils doivent être à Puros ce soir et je pense que c'est un peu ambitieux de passer par Marienfluss et Hartman Nord, surtout que manifestement , ils en ont un peu marre de se faire remuer.
Joubert pass arrive bientôt, on le fait les doigts dans le nez et les filles au volant, suite au passage difficile de la veille, nous sommes moins impressionnables.
Un peu plus loin nous croisons le bonhomme de l'autre jour, qui semble avoir repris du poil de la bête :
Et bientôt, avant Orupembe, à nouveau une belle vallée
Et puis j'attendais avec impatience notre premier lit de rivière, la Khumib. Je ne sais pas si c'est le vent ( il y en avait beaucoup), ou si c'est parce que nous revenions de Hartman et de Marienfluss, mais j'ai été très déçu. Quand on roule dans le sable, c'est très encaissé, on ne voit pas le paysage, quand on roule en dehors du lit on voit mieux alentours, mais les paysages sont moins impressionnants, il aurait mieux valu passer là avant.
Nous croisons peu de bestioles, bientôt il faut sortir de la Khumib,
passer quelques collines pour rejoindre l'Hoarusib où la faune est plus présente, c'est compréhensible : il y a de l'eau.
Bientôt nous croisons la signalisation du camping, mais pas le camping...
Alors on tourne, on fait demi tour , on cherche : rien.
Tout de même, à force de tourner, nous tombons sur un gars blanc comme un cachet d'aspirine, des cheveux noirs gras et filasses tombent sur ses épaules, son short bleu électrique laisse apparaître des cuisses maigrelettes qui surmontent des genoux cagneux accrochés à 2 mollets de grillon qui s'engouffrent dans des chaussettes rouges chaussées de sandales de cuir, son nez aquilin porte de grosses lunettes d'écailles noires, sa copine qui se balade en soutien gorge est plutôt mignonne ( elle), bon, ce ne sont sans doute pas des autochtones, j'opte pour ma langue maternelle, persuadé que ce sont des compatriotes...
Perdu : ce sont des allemands ! ( sans doute Helmut, le teuton qui avait sauvé les Caperam jadis...ben je sais pas vous, mais moi, je le voyais autrement..).
Ils nous expliquent que le camping, ben il il juste là, derrière les arbres, le camping...
Ils se baladaient et ont du en avoir marre d'entendre ces deux gros 4x4 tourner et retourner comme des dingues.
Nous retrouvons l'entrée et payons pour 2 nuits, Max nous propose une sortie, on verra demain lui dis-je.
Nous croisons les sudaf rencontrés au bidon rouge qui sont arrivés en même temps que nous ! Ils n'ont pas traîné en route dis donc...
Et on monte le camp pour 2 nuits
Merci Air One pour ce superbe carnet, une fois encore les photos sont magnifiques, et le périple est joliment décrit.
Oh bien sûr il nous manque le petit grain de fantaisie de 2015!
Je viens de découvrir tout cela à mon retour (de Namibie), au début on se dit ... circuit classique? 😉Et puis non, superbe virée dans des régions qui le sont moins- enfin, pour moi! Belle découverte.
Bon, j'avais écrit un mot lundi, mais il n'est pas arrivé sur le forum. Tant pis!
J'y rajoutais sans doute trop de trucs.
Alors on tourne, on fait demi tour , on cherche : rien.
Tout de même, à force de tourner, nous tombons sur un gars blanc comme un cachet d'aspirine, des cheveux noirs gras et filasses tombent sur ses épaules, son short bleu électrique laisse apparaître des cuisses maigrelettes qui surmontent des genoux cagneux accrochés à 2 mollets de grillon qui s'engouffrent dans des chaussettes rouges chaussées de sandales de cuir, son nez aquilin porte de grosses lunettes d'écailles noires, sa copine qui se balade en soutien gorge est plutôt mignonne ( elle), bon, ce ne sont sans doute pas des autochtones, j'opte pour ma langue maternelle, persuadé que ce sont des compatriotes...
Perdu : ce sont des allemands ! ( sans doute Helmut, le teuton qui avait sauvé les Caperam jadis...ben je sais pas vous, mais moi, je le voyais autrement..).
Ahahah, mais il s'appelait Harald ! Et en effet, il ne ressemblait pas du tout à ça ! Et ne pas trouver le camping de Puros, vous l'avez fait exprès? 😛😉 Vous étiez trop fatigués après toutes ces aventures?
Plus sérieusement, vous en étiez où de l'essence? C'est pour ça que vous n'êtes pas montés à la Kunene River?
Ahahah, mais il s'appelait Harald ! Et en effet, il ne ressemblait pas du tout à ça ! Et ne pas trouver le camping de Puros, vous l'avez fait exprès? 😛😉 Vous étiez trop fatigués après toutes ces aventures?
Plus sérieusement, vous en étiez où de l'essence? C'est pour ça que vous n'êtes pas montés à la Kunene River?
Anne-Marie
Oui : Harald, c'est ça, c'était bien lui mais tu le regardes avec les yeux de l'amour. 😎
(platonique bien sûr, mais ma description est très fidèle à la réalité)
Concernant l'essence, j'y viens, ça donnera lieu à un chapitre entier.
Et puis pour le camping, c'est pas si simple que ça quand on arrive de l'Hoarusib, c'est beaucoup plus simple quand on on vient du village.
Je descend le premier, j'ai la gorge un peu sèche.
Pour le second je dois remettre les pierres en place en remontant.
Et puis je descend le second.
Le manège se répète100 m plus loin, toujours aussi raide et encore plus long.
Et les photos? Personne n'a pensé à en prendre de ce moment grandiose?
On descend, on va regarder, c'est vraiment raide, on remonte difficilement à la voiture et le couloir est toujours aussi étroit. Je me vois ipso facto déléguer le droit de descendre les 2 4x4 ! Merci les gars, ça fait plaisir ! Ben c'est toi qui nous a amené là aussi et puis c'est toi qui a le plus d'expérience..
C'est dans le besoin qu'on reconnait ses amis!!! Bah, je crois que tu es un vrai ami!!!!
Et bien si, alors que je termine ma descente, une sensation étrange ainsi qu'un bruit peu catholique attirent mon attention, je m'arrête et, oui : nous sommes bel et bien à plat à l'arrière à gauche. C'est lourd ces sacrées roues !
Qu'est-ce ça peut être chi....... ces pneus à changer
Ah! Que je suis d'accord avec toi sur le fait que ces pneus de 4x4, c'est ultra lourd!! Nous avons eu 4 crevaisons dans l'altiplano argentin avec un toyota 4 runner, dont 2 pour lesquelles nous avons dû changer la roue nous-même au milieu de nulle part, à + de 4000m d'altitude.
on peut voir que les filles sont au taquet pour nous donner un coup de main...
Elles ont la chance d'avoir 3 mecs costauds pour faire le boulot. 🤪
T4A appelle ça " Very bad extrême road" " bad bad road", Jeff il appelle ça "une petite difficulté" Ce mec doit avoir des couilles grosses comme des melons !
Mais non mon petit, il t'a fait une petite blague, c'est tout!!!!!! 😄
Bonne question, les photos, nous n'avions pas vraiment l'esprit à ça et puis nous étions dans l'ombre, mais il y a tout de même une photo prise par un ipad que je vais récupérer ce WE ( j'ai demandé au copain de me l'envoyer en pj , mais c'est pas une lumière en informatique faut croire...)
Vraiment superbe voyage 😛 😎
En tout cas c'est pas moi qui me serais défilé et qui t'aurais cédé le volant 😉
C'est vraiment avec plaisir que je retournerais à Hartmann Valley, mais c'est si loin...
Bon d'accord, mais tes impressions sur ce passage qualifié de "extreme road / bad bad road " par T4A , ça ne t'a pas un peu marqué ?
Je sais que tu l'as pris dans l'autre sens et sans doute sous le soleil, mais tout de même, c'est raide !
Bonjour AirOne.
Je decouvre avec beaucoup de plaisir votre récit Namibien et je vous remercie d'avoir mentionné le récit de notre périple chez les Himbas. Ce fut d'ailleurs une grande surprise que de reconnaître les visages des femmes que nous avions rencontré. Comme je le disais à l'époque il semble qu'un tournus entre les différents "villages" soit organisé afin d'eviter de "gater" toujours les mêmes!! Maintenant si il n'y a qu'un village a proximité des chutes!!!!!!!!
Je souhaiterais connaître le nom du camp que vous aviez choisi à Epupa car la passerelle me plait beaucoup!!!
Je retourne à ma lecture car votre récit est fort plaisant et bien illustré par de belles photos. Merci et a bientôt.
Salut Patrice
Je te tutoie parce que je dois être beaucoup plus vieux que toi pour que tu prennes ainsi la peine de me vouvoyer.😉
Je crois comme toi que le guide fait visiter plusieurs villages, en tous cas, c'est ce qu'il nous a dit et nous en avons aperçu d'autres dans le coin. Pourtant, les deux français du camp qui sont allés visiter un village l'après midi du même jour ont également visité ce village là.
Le camping est celui d'Epupa camp, la passerelle se trouve près du bar.
J'avais moi aussi beaucoup apprécié ton carnet.
Concernant les photos, la qualité n'est pas optimale, j'avais formaté toutes les photos à 1000 pix de côté et 1400 pour les panoramiques. Et puis bing : le format maintenant exigé pour les carnets et de minimum 2000 pix de côté, il a fallu que je remonte toutes mes photos à 2000 ce qui donne un aspect un peu flou visible sur les grands écrans.😕
Le matin est plus frais que ces derniers jours, la soirée de la veille nous annonçait une baisse des températures, nous sommes à 10 ° au petit jour.
Le petit dej avalé, je file à l'accueil, mais point de Max, un autre guide se propose, plus jeune et bien moins volubile, nous embauchons Steven, donc , pour une balade dans Puros Canyon et si possible pour trouver nos premiers éléphants du désert que nous n'avons toujours pas eu la chance de croiser.
La balade commence sur la D3707, au premier croisement, c'est à gauche pour remonter jusqu'à la limite du parc de la Skeleton coast.
Nous montons sur la colline et Steven nous a fait une démonstration de résurrection des lichens, il suffit de verser un peu d'eau dessus pour qu'ils passe d'un noir d'encre au vert pâle.
Ils ont la capacité de capter la rosée amenée par les vents marins, les oryx qui connaissent le truc viennent les lécher au petit jour.
Pas cons ces oryx !
Ici les paysages ressemblent étrangement à ceux du film "seul sur Mars"
Tous ces chemins sur la colline en face sont ceux tracés par les Oryx au fil des ans.
Ils ont vraiment que ça à foutre ces oryx...
Puis nous repartons vers le canyon que nous rejoignons bientôt, la piste ne présente aucune difficulté jusqu'ici.
Dans le canyon, nous commençons par aller à droite à la recherche des éléphants,
Steven trouve rapidement des traces (il y en a un peu partout) qui semblent fraîches, nous continuons jusqu'au lodge et il y a là deux éléphants, carrément aux pieds des chalets.
Nous continuons jusqu'au bord de la falaise où nous nous arrêtons et descendons de voiture après qu'on nous y ait autorisé bien sûr.
Nous sommes un peu loin et ils s'éloignent, nous approchons donc un peu plus les véhicules et redescendons, jamais je n'aurais osé sans l'aval d'un guide habitué à ces animaux réputés agressifs.
Nous poursuivons la balade en suivant le canyon, Steven parle beaucoup moins, mais ne refuse pas les bières au pique nique, il ne fait donc pas la gueule, non, c'est juste qu'on dirait qu'il considère que son boulot est terminé.
Dommage.
Sur le chemin du retour, nous ne croiserons pas d'autres éléphants, quelque springbok et des babouins, mais le canyon est vraiment sympa à visiter, beaucoup de passages à gué, des étroitures spectaculaires et en général, beaucoup de verdure.
Alors que nous approchons de Puros, je constate que les jauges baissent, nous sommes sur le second réservoir depuis le trajet Marienfus/Puros, si nous voulons faire le programme prévu demain qui passe par les lits de la Ganamub et de l'Hoanib, il faudra trouver de l'essence.
Je demande donc à Steven s'il connaît un gars qui en vend, il connaît...
FAIRE LE PLEIN A PUROS
Je ne vous le conseille pas, vous allez comprendre pourquoi, mais je peux sans problème vous recommander d'y acheter du gasoil.
Nous nous rendons donc dans Puros, le village consiste en un éparpillement de maisons, cases, cabanes en tôle éparpillées en un agencement dispersé.
Pour être plus clair, disons qu'il n'y a aucun agencement.
mais les locaux s'y retrouvent et Steven nous conduit près de cette maison,
c'est la station service de Puros, c'est un scoop, je vous invite donc à bien retenir son aspect, voir de charger la photo sur votre smartphone.
Pas de bol, le pompiste n'est pas là.
Nous garons un véhicule près de la maison, l'autre part avec Steven à la recherche du propriétaire, ils iront chez un autre gars, appelons le l'acolyte, qui montera aussi dans le véhicule pour les conduire chez un troisième gars chez qui se trouve le pompiste, puis ils reviendrons avec le pompiste et l'acolyte.
Il faut être motivé pour faire le plein à Puros.
Pendant ce temps, nous attendons, des gamins viennent nous voir, curieux.
Nous avons du temps à tuer, je sors un des ballons de foot et nous commençons des parties impromptues de jeux de balle.
(dégage de mon chemin mauviette !😏)
Les gamins ne se font pas prier, l'ambiance est bonne et ils ne partiront pas tant que nous serons là.
Le second 4x4 revient chargé à bloc et nous demandons au pompiste 3 bidons de 20 l, l'un des 4x4 recevant notre bidon de secours qui nous permet de jeter un œil au gasoil "officiel" afin de le compare sa couleur et sa texture à celui de Puros : il ne nous est pas possible de faire la différence à l'œil, rassurés, nous demandons 2 bidons de plus.
L'essence se trouve stockée dans une cabane, des fûts estampillés "Shell" que le pompiste et son acolyte siphonnent à la bouche !
Je lui fait remarquer que c'est dangereux et qu'il faudrait mieux qu'il bricole une pompe avec un robinet 3 voies, ça lui éviterait de respirer de l'essence ou d'en avoir dans la bouche.
No problem m'assure t'il, et il choppe une bouteille d'eau pour se rincer les dents sous mes yeux.
J'insiste en spécifiant ma profession, lui disant que respirer et avaler de l'essence est très mauvais pour la santé et qu'il est très simple de faire autrement.
Il fait mine de m'écouter et me dis qu'il va y réfléchir...mouais...
Les 100 l versés, nous passons à la caisse, l'addition est lourde, : 2000N$ les 100 l soit environs 130 €, deux fois le prix namibien, ce qui est bien sûr complètement compréhensible et nous payons sans broncher (le prix avait été annoncé avant).
Pour 2 pleins, ça aurait quand même fait cher et pas sûr que les 2 gars s'en soient sortis indemnes...
Nous repartons, non sans dire au revoir à nos compagnons de jeu,
nous leurs confions le ballon en leur demandant de le donner à l'école afin que tout le monde puisse jouer avec.
Le lendemain nous passerons près de l'école, les enfants jouaient dehors, beaucoup couraient derrière le ballon orange.
Il ne va pas durer bien longtemps celui là, si quelqu'un passe par là et pouvait leur en apporter un tout neuf ?
170 km 7 heures
Un mot du camping de Puros, ça a déjà été dit, mais il est génial, pas vrai l'oiseau ?
les toilettes sont nichées au milieu d'une espèce de grand buisson sous un arbre, les emplacements sont vastes et bien éloignés les uns des autres. Les donkeys sont bien alimentés, vraiment bien. Il faut juste savoir qu'il y a du sable profond dans certaines allées et que c'est du sable très fin.
Les éléphants viennent régulièrement, ils sont passés la première nuit, nous n'avons rien vu rien entendu...
Ceux qui voudraient faire un tour avec un guide, je pense qu'il faut essayer de partir avec Max, Steven est performant pour trouver les éléphants mais on a l'impression qu'il pense que sa mission s'arrête là.
Et puis, nous allons voir que trouver les éléphants du désert n'est pas si compliqué pour qui veut bien s'en donner la peine ! 😉
Dernière nuit au camping et nous partons vers Sesfontein, la piste est par endroits fabuleuse avec en particulier cette large section de sable peu profond complètement dénuée de tôles ondulées où on peu lâcher un peu les chevaux, on a l'impression de voler (gaffe quand même, c'est en faisant ce genre de conneries qu'on se retrouve sur le toit...😐)
Bientôt nous arrivons près de la Ganamub, nous aurons un peu de mal à en trouver l'entrée, il y a un dédale de pistes avec pas mal d'habitations
mais on repère bien où il faut aller et si on se laisse embarquer dans une mauvaise direction, on le voit facilement.
Il n'y a pas d'eau dans la Ganamub, peu d'animaux, pas d'éléphants...enfin si, un ex éléphant.
Des babouins.
Un trajet sinueux, assez sympa avec encore des étroitures comme dans le lit de l'Hoarusib
Et puis nous arrivons au lit de l'Hoanib qui lui n'est pas complètement sec, c'est plus vert et les éléphants sont là.
Cette fois ci, ce ne sont pas 2 éléphants, mais une douzaine avec des tout jeunes, donc, pas question d'approcher trop près.
Nous croisons un 4x4 de game drive qui vient de Khowarib lodge, là où nous allons.
Juste avant de sortir, il y a un point de péage, une somme modique ( 150 N$ je crois) destinée à la communauté locale pour l'impliquer dans la protection de la faune sauvage, des lions et des éléphants en particulier.
A la sortie du canyon de l'Hoanib, nous avons la désagréable surprise (pourtant clairement notifiée par T4A) de tomber sur une zone de fesh fesh, quand on ne s'y attend pas, ça fait drôle, d'un seul coup, tout devient gris autour et la hantise est de ne pas rentrer dans le 4x4 des copains.
Les photos ont été prises là où ça commençait à bien se calmer.
Sesfontein, nous filons à la station faire le plein.
"Out of gasoil"...
La maxime se vérifie " en Afrique, quand tu peux prendre de l'essence, fais le plein", nous avons donc bien fait de prendre 100 l à Puros, on aurait été mal sinon, Palmwag n'est pas très loin, mais je pense qu'on aurait été juste.
La route vers Khowarib lodge est sans surprise, pas mal de gamins qui quémandent au bord de la route et qui peuvent parfois se montrer indélicats envers ceux qui ne s'arrêtent pas (doigts), mais ceux là ne sont pas majoritaires.
Quand tu viens d'où nous venions et que tu arrives à Khowarib lodge, tu as un peu l'impression d'arriver au palais des mille et une nuits.
Une impression de luxe indescriptible, presque gênant, tu ne te sens pas à ta place...
Mais c'est fichtrement bon ! Je découvre en plus que nous sommes en demi pension, pas un kopek à sortir, tout est déjà réglé : c'est la fête du slip !
Les repas sont excellents, les vins proposés et conseillés également.
Les chalets sont disposés le long de la rivière dont le lit n'est pas à sec, il y a d'ailleurs pas mal de grenouilles qui s'expriment régulièrement, par vagues montantes ou descendantes le long de la rivière, c'est assez bruyant mais pas assez pour nous réveiller. il y a un petit balcon dans chaque chalet qui donne sur la rivière.
Les salles de bain sont à l'air libre, sans toit.
Un lodge agréable dont le personnel est extrêmement prévenant et que je recommande sans hésiter.
Juste à côté et dans une situation très comparable ( mais bien moins cher) se trouve le camping communautaire où nous sommes passés le lendemain, vraiment bien situé avec des bush tents sommaires ( 2 lits de camp) mais magnifiquement situées au bord de la rivière.
Je pense que Khowarib ( lodge ou camp communautaire) sont à privilégier l'hiver par rapport au fameux Grootberg lodge ( situé un peu plus au sud et très souvent cité sur VF), trop exposé au vents froids . Ce n'est que mon point de vue qui vaut bien peu en comparaison de celui du Grootberg lodge, incomparable.
This three-week trip to Namibia was a big first for us: - Visiting a country in winter, for someone who starts feeling comfortable at 25°C (77°F). - Camping,…
Hi everyone, I’m Patrick, 67 years old, a seasoned traveler (already 22 trips outside Europe).
In autumn 2025, I took my first 3-week trip to Japan, with stops in Tokyo, Kamakura, Matsumoto, Kamikochi, Takayama, Kanazawa, Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Koyasan, Tokyo again, and Nikko.
I wanted to go back in May 2026 and explore some lesser-known places to complement my first trip.
Last year, there were four of us traveling together to discover Japan (a fairly classic itinerary). This time, I’ll be traveling solo for part of the trip and with a couple of French friends for the rest.
The weather was gorgeous in May, averaging around 25°C, with two very hot days in Kyoto and only two rainy days.
As usual, I organized everything myself, gathering plenty of information from various sites, including this one.
Transportation:
An ICOCA card is essential.
I got a 5-day Kansai-Hiroshima pass because I took the shinkansen between Hiroshima and Osaka three times, and it paid for itself quickly.
Accommodations:
Mostly through Booking. No issues at all. Average cost was 46 € per night.
Meals:
For breakfast, I alternated between buying food at a konbini to eat in my room or on the train and grabbing something at local cafés.
For lunch and dinner, I tried to vary my meals as much as possible—lots of sashimi, sushi, and ramen.
Okonomiyaki in Osaka and Hiroshima.
Oysters in every form (raw, grilled, fried) in Onomichi and Hiroshima.
A variety of seafood (shrimp, shellfish) in Hiroshima and Matsumoto.
Fish whose names often escaped me, but notably mackerel and eel (unagi).
Tempura and gyoza.
Chicken skewers (yakitori) and one teppanyaki meal.
One omakase meal (9 different dishes).
In the end, not much meat aside from a few yakitori skewers. No splurges on super expensive wagyu or Kobe beef.
Average dinner cost: 4,800 yen, drinks included.
The Itinerary:
Day 1: Departure from Brussels
Day 2: Arrival in Osaka
Day 3: To Himeji, then Kurashiki
Day 4: To Fukuyama, then Tomo no Ura, then Onomichi
Day 5: Cycling the Shimanami Kaido
Day 6: To Takahara, then Hiroshima
Day 7: To Kyoto to attend the Aoi Matsuri parade
Day 8: To Miyajima
Day 9: Hiroshima, then Kyoto
Day 10: Southern Kyoto
Day 11: Northern Kyoto
Day 12: Final day in Kyoto, then to Nagatsugawa
Day 13: Start of the Nakasendo Trail (Magome to Tsumago)
Day 14: Second day of the trail (Kiso Fukushima)
Day 15: Third day of the trail (Narai), then Matsumoto
Day 16: To Mt. Fuji (Kawaguchiko)
Day 17: To Tokyo
Day 18: Excursion to Enoshima and Kamakura
Day 19: Flight home, with a 10-hour layover in Hong Kong
Day 20: Arrival in Brussels
"So, my little wanderers, back at the decks? What’s this mystery destination you’ve got in store for us at the start of the year?"
Yes, the schoolyard bell’s ringing again! We’re hitting the road... or rather, the skies! At first glance, our destination might surprise more than a few. First off, simply because I was here exactly twenty years ago, and I don’t usually like retracing my own footsteps. Secondly, because the name of this place screams mass tourism—basically the opposite of what Flo and I look for.
Despite that, in this land of backsheesh, I’d promised myself I’d come back one day to experience it my way. And since Flo told me, during our wanderer chats, that this destination straddling Africa and the Middle East was in her top 2 travel dreams, the stars aligned for this roots-style trip to quickly make it onto our pharaonic festivities program! Unless you’re totally clueless in general knowledge, you’ve probably guessed by now—we’re off to Egypt! Of course, a few classics will be on our itinerary, but above all, we want to soak up a culture that can’t be appreciated in four-star resorts or on a Nile cruise boat. And let’s be clear, these next two weeks won’t be a walk in the park—neither for our two daughters who are joining us, nor for our bodies!
And that’s clear from the get-go: after our first flight, eight hours of trying (and failing) to sleep on Milan airport’s metal seats, our second flight, landing, passport stamps, our Uber ride, and our first Cairo kilometers, we finally drop our exhaustion at the little guesthouse we booked in Giza. Doesn’t all that energy deserve a little reward?
Oh, absolutely! And here it is: a full-on slap in the face for everyone! But just look at this view from our hotel terrace? For 20 € a night for four, even with this incredible view, I figured the room must be pretty shabby, right? Nope... Is the staff rude, then? Nope... Okay, so what’s the catch? You’re gonna tell me breakfast is included too? Well, yes! Honestly, this Egypt trip is off to a great start.
And the rest of the afternoon, spent rubbing shoulders with locals, only confirmed this vibe. After digesting our pyramid view, we dove into the hustle and bustle of our neighborhood with the goal of exchanging money, eating at street stalls, and testing the hospitality of the locals. Ten out of ten!
Eight little sun breads with baba ganoush and falafel? 80 pounds, or 1.5 €. A dozen Middle Eastern pastries? Same! 80 pounds! Two hawawshis, those little pita breads stuffed with meat and spices? 10 pounds each, or about twenty cents! Not to mention all those smiles and free "welcomes" left and right!!!
What a welcome! We end this first day with a sunset over the three sisters of Giza—where we’ll obviously be gawking tomorrow...
Here we go with this second travel journal dedicated to the American West! It’s a must when you love it! 😊
We had left off in the charming town of Bisbee, which once thrived thanks to its copper mines. Today, mining is a thing of the past, and the town seems a bit sleepy.
Unfortunately, I didn’t dig deep enough on-site to answer all the questions my observations raised. Guess I’ll have to *dig* into the subject a bit more... no pun intended! 😊
Let’s hop back in the car and head a little further south to check out the esplanade that offers a view—if you can call it that—of the impressive open-pit mine.
Then, it’s off to the Lowell neighborhood.
Preserved almost exactly as it was, this area must’ve been bustling in its heyday. The vintage cars are still around, storefronts and signs look like they’re straight out of another era, and the whole place has a pretty amazing vibe. You’d almost think you were on Route 66!
Here, we’re not just discovering an old neighborhood—it’s a little slice of American history. And, a detail that’s great for my physical health: the area isn’t too spread out.
Lucky me! 😊
I won’t post too many photos here since I think I can turn them into a future photo exhibit. Between these and some shots from Route 66, I should have more than enough material! So, let’s keep a few under wraps... to preserve the surprise. 😊
I’m sharing a little recap of this new 4-week trip to China—nothing fancy, just my experience.
We’re taking advantage of the extended visa exemption to return to China for the 4th time. I loved last summer’s trip so much that I’m a bit worried about being disappointed this year. Plus, I’ve had a few hiccups before this departure: my WeChat account got blocked, and I couldn’t recover it (luckily, Alipay still works fine); I couldn’t verify my 12306 account for weeks; Trip.com failed to book our second train; and I’ve got an injury that’ll slow me down during the trip... Ugh, I hate starting a trip with these kinds of issues. Then, oh surprise! Just before leaving, my 12306 account got verified! Super easy to use from that point on—I could book a few train tickets without fees.
We’re sticking with Free’s e-SIMs, which work great in China.
August 2–3
Anyway, on the morning of August 2nd, we took the RER to CDG. As usual, we couldn’t check in online. It’s always a bit frustrating, especially since we didn’t have any checked luggage. We flew with Air China. We arrived at the check-in counter at 9:50 AM, 2 hours and 40 minutes before the flight. The line for our check-in stretched 300 meters across the airport in both directions. What a joke!! We spent 1 hour and 45 minutes in that line just to reach the counter and get our boarding passes. By then, it was 11:35 AM, and boarding had already started at 11:20 AM. The screens showed a 25-minute walk to our gate—on the other side of the airport, of course—plus we had to go through passport control and security... Long story short, the plane didn’t leave without us 🙂 We boarded among the last passengers, and we took off at 12:30 PM. We’d flown Air China four times before, but this time, it felt *really* low-cost. The check-in chaos, the cramped seats (12 seats per row), no music by artists known outside China, mediocre food, and a boarding area at Beijing Airport with only 10 seats—worthy of Ryanair or EasyJet. And yet, the price was sky-high. Again, D.’s vacation requests were denied outside of July and August, so we’re traveling from August 2nd to 30th. We couldn’t have picked a worse time for inflated prices, and with the situation in Iran, we got hit with a 390 € fuel surcharge. I’ve never paid so much for flights—I felt like I’d bought business class, but nope, far from it!!
We landed in Beijing around 4:15 AM. It was 28°C with thick fog. We drove and drove and drove for 20 minutes, as usual in Beijing. Then we went through a first check, a second check, a third check, and waited for our connecting flight at 6:40 AM. A small Airbus A320, but way more space than in the Boeing 777 from the first flight. We landed in Kunming, Yunnan, around 10:15 AM in the rain.
We headed to the subway. You can’t pay at the machines with Alipay here either, so we set up the transport QR code directly in Alipay to scan at the subway gates. The process is a bit long the first time if you haven’t entered your info before, but once it’s done, it’s *so* much easier! We took Line 6 to the terminus for 6 yuan each.
We’d booked a hotel nearby, on the 16th floor. It’s actually studios on different floors of a huge residential building. The view’s pretty nice from here. We settled in quickly—back to those wooden beds, or rather, mattresses as hard as wood, which we *hadn’t* missed...
Then we went out for our first bowl of noodles of the trip and wandered through the shopping streets of the old town.
It was crowded, and the weather was cool—around 19–20°C. We tried a local specialty: milk skin, thick, dried, then grilled with rose jam. Yeah... we won’t be having that again. The taste and texture of the milk skin... no thanks.
We saw a lot of wild mushroom hotpot too. It’s on our list for later. We also passed through the Jinma and Biji gates, where I played with reflections in puddles. I *love* doing that 🙂
At the end of the day, we headed to a temple advertised as open 24/7 on Amap. Of course, when we got there, it was closed. We’ll go back tomorrow. That was the first of many disappointments with Amap this trip—I hadn’t had that issue on previous visits.
We were exhausted after that sleepless flight. Night was falling, and we decided to grab a quick bite without much appetite. We shared a delicious vegetable fried rice for 12 yuan—we even left half of it. The portions are *huge*.
After a couple of small purchases, we headed back at 9 PM, wiped out, after walking 17 km between the airports and these first steps in Kunming. I expected to see quite a few Western travelers here, but we didn’t spot a single one. Instead, we met lots of curious Chinese people, many of them super friendly and helpful—almost *too* eager, like when they’d run to serve us as fast as possible. It’s a bit much, but it’s great to be back!
So, a new year has begun. It’s time to reconnect with the VF buddies and wish you all my best for 2026—a year I hope is obviously full of travel, since, as I just made up:
"If travel’s good, everything’s good" 😄.
To celebrate, I’m inviting you into my new "travel journal," the one from our latest trip in November 2025, a little two-week adventure.
This time, we headed to The Gambia, a tiny country tucked right in the middle of Senegal, before making our way to Casamance.
The Gambia is English-speaking, Senegal is French-speaking, but the locals? They couldn’t care less—because in this part of the world, they mostly speak Wolof, Fula, Jola, or Mandinka.
Hence the title: Senegambia 😉.
As usual, I’m sharing the live updates I sent to friends and family—super casual, of course.
I know this isn’t the kind of destination that draws crowds, but if you love adventure, laughter, and emotion, it might just be your thing 😊.
After as many weeks as I have fingers on my right hand, we're hitting the road again, fully recovered from our pharaonic adventure. Back in France to drop off our daughters (sorry, girls!), this time it's just the two of us, ready to be welcomed by a new destination. They say it offers one of the richest cultural heritages in the world for those willing to put in the effort. It's the land of the ancient Silk Road, where we'll follow a journey steeped in history and discoveries straight out of *One Thousand and One Nights*. A former Soviet bloc region independent only since 1991, we'll be walking in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Alexander the Great, Marco Polo...
Another fun fact about this country: it's strictly forbidden to import porn on your phone. True story. The same goes for painkillers! Unless it's about sodomy—though the two don’t seem connected, that’s just how it is. Don’t ask me why! Anyway, I’m getting off track. Here’s the big question: Where do you think we’ve just landed?... To give you a hint, the locals are known for being incredibly welcoming. No sooner said than done—our first taxi driver, proud to transport French travelers, refused to let us pay for the ride. Great vibes for these two weeks ahead. So, any guesses?
Uzbekistan!!!
Off to Southern Africa again! This time, the trip wasn’t just about wildlife—it was also about the local cultures and the breathtaking landscapes Mother Nature has to offer. It was an emotional rollercoaster in every way, as you’ll see.
We visited two countries: Zambia, known for its reserves, and Malawi, which is less well-known but absolutely worth a visit. Our flight landed in Lilongwe, Malawi’s capital, where our vehicle was waiting—though with a 3-hour delay. It was a 4x4 without the rooftop tent this time, since we stayed in lodges (prices are very reasonable in Malawi). Just a heads-up: don’t exchange money at the airport or banks—the official rate was 1,750 Malawian kwacha to $1. On the black market, the rate was between 3,000 and 3,500 kwacha, making the cost of living much cheaper.
With that out of the way, our first stop was South Luangwa National Park in Zambia. The first hiccup came at the Malawi-Zambia border: we were missing a document the rental company had forgotten. After some back-and-forth, they sent it via WhatsApp ($20 to get it validated by the police). But things got worse—the car’s chassis number was off by one digit from the registered one. I thought our trip was over before it even started! After what felt like forever, we got through with a "tip" of $200. Total border crossing time: 3 hours, costing nearly $400. We arrived in South Luangwa after dark.
Thankfully, the next day made up for it with an incredible day in the park (check out the photos).
We spent two full days in South Luangwa before heading to Katete for the Kulamba ceremony.
Kulamba is an annual event held at the end of August, celebrating the Chewa people, who live across Zambia, Malawi, and Mozambique. The Chewa king attends, and representatives from neighboring nations bring offerings. Thousands gather for dances, speeches, and a massive market. There are few tourists, making it a truly authentic experience.
After a few days in Zambia, we returned to Malawi (the border crossing this time was smooth—just 45 minutes). Next stop: Lake Malawi.
Lake Malawi covers over 20% of the country and stretches 580 km. It’s home to a family of fish called cichlids, some of which are endemic to the lake. I recommend taking a day trip from Cape Maclear for snorkeling and to watch the fishing eagles swoop down to catch fish.
We hit the road again to visit Liwonde Reserve, where we had a few surprises. The lodge was on the other side of the river that borders the park, and the elephants didn’t seem to care. On the way from reception to our rooms, elephants blocked our path, and one even charged just before the stairs leading to our treehouse-style rooms.
To top it off, monkeys ransacked our rooms, tearing through plastic bags for food. A mixed experience, but no real harm done.
Next up: the mountains, specifically the Mulanje Massif. This is where Malawi’s tea is grown, and it’s also a great spot for day hikes or multi-day treks. The scenery is stunning, though sometimes the mist rolls in and hides it.
After the mountains, we visited another reserve: Majete. The park is growing and now has more wildlife. We saw lions and even caught a fleeting glimpse of a leopard. And of course, the elephants got involved again—this time giving us a real scare.
During the morning game drive with a guide, we stopped to watch a herd of elephants feeding. Everything was fine until, for some reason, a female got spooked—probably for her calf—and positioned herself in front of us on the track. After a few minutes, we thought the elephants would move on, but then a young one started provoking us. The problem? We had females and calves in front of us, but also two large adult males—one behind us and one to the side.
We were trapped, and even our guide looked nervous. After what felt like an eternity (though it was only a few minutes), the herd finally moved on, freeing the track. That afternoon, we did a self-drive safari and—you guessed it—we had zero interest in running into elephants again.
The next day, we headed back to Lilongwe for our flight home. It was a fantastic, varied trip with some intense moments (sometimes *too* intense). Malawi offers amazing opportunities for those who want more than just wildlife reserves.
Alright, this year, we're heading back to South America!
The initial plan was to retrace the route we imagined in the summer of 2020: a trip to northern Argentina starting from Córdoba.
Unfortunately, the flight to Córdoba no longer exists, and airfares to Javier Milei’s country are both outrageously priced and involve multiple layovers.
So, I tweaked Google Flights every which way and finally found a flight within my budget—departing from Clermont-Ferrand!
Not to Argentina, though...
Our transatlantic flight will cross the snow-capped Andes, landing in Santiago, Chile, with a return from Lima!
In between, two domestic flights and a big road trip loop starting from the coastal city of Arica to explore the treasures of northern Chile.
Our mode of transport: a pseudo 4x4 that won’t take us through sand dunes or devilish tracks but will let us tackle the entire secondary network, including unpaved main roads, while still being insured.
Is the suitcase packed with all-season clothes?
Are the driver’s license and passport ready?
Bank cards and a few euros too?
Off we go for just over 3 weeks of southern wanderings!
--/--
To keep all my esteemed readers on track, here are a few maps outlining the Arica-Arica loop!
1- From Arica to San Pedro de Atacama via Pica and the Salar de Huasco
2- Around San Pedro
3- From San Pedro to Cariquima
4- From Cariquima to Putre
5 - From Putre to Arica
Gas stations in this part of Chile are located in Arica, Iquique, Pozo Almonte, Pica, Calama, and San Pedro de Atacama.
I hope this travel journal might interest some people, but since we were completely self-sufficient (tent, sleeping bag, pot, cooking over a wood fire…) almost every day, I don’t have many hotel addresses or great restaurant tips to share! Sorry!
We used the Maio map at 1:50,000 scale. It’s part of the Boa Vista/Sal/Maio map. Bought on Amazon, but currently unavailable as of the latest news.
The people of Maio are extremely welcoming and warm, and we were always more than well received in the villages where we pitched our tent!
We’re usually big hikers, but since Maio is a beach island (gorgeous ones, at that!), we alternated a few hours of walking in the morning with some relaxation in the afternoon: beach, reading, fishing, resting…
1 euro = 110 escudos
Day 1 (Friday) Transfers by plane: Fogo-Praia-Maio
We opted for the plane to save some time on transfers, as the boat connections between Fogo and Praia take a while, and those between Praia and Maio are almost nonexistent.
You should budget around 40-50 euros per flight per person.
There are 2 flights per week between Praia and Maio—on Tuesdays and Fridays when we were there (January 2016), but currently on Mondays and Fridays.
A bit of a delay leaving Praia, but we arrived on Maio without any problems around 4 PM.
We took an *aluguer* (shared transport, 200 escudos per person) to the center of Vila do Maio, but it’s totally doable on foot with a backpack.
Since it was already a bit late, for this first night, we dropped our bags at Big Game Maio. A standard European-style hotel run by a very nice Italian family. It’s a bit pricey for us (5500 escudos for 2 people with breakfast), but after our 2 weeks in a tent on Fogo, we were happy to find a little comfort. And the breakfast is ultra-generous, with fresh products (cured ham, fruit, cheese, bread) and top quality. The hotel restaurant offers dishes that are a clever mix of Italian and Cape Verdean cuisine. Excellent!
Little tip: We didn’t try it, but Big Game Maio offers big-game fishing trips, diving, and quad rentals.
The hotel is 2 minutes from Vila’s beautiful beach, and we went for a dip at sunset and took a stroll around town. They’re redeveloping the waterfront with pretty sidewalks and light stone walls.
Vila beach
Sunset behind Santiago
Day 2 (Saturday): rest day + fishing
After 2 weeks of hiking and since Vila is such a peaceful place where it’s nice to take your time, we decided to spend an extra day there. We took the path heading south along the coast to reach Ponta Preta beach in 20 minutes. The path isn’t very pretty because there’s quite a bit of construction going on, which prevents you from really walking along the shore. Lots of real estate agencies, especially Italian ones, have taken over the land. But Ponta Preta beach is a stunning black-sand beach where we had the whole place to ourselves. We decided to go fishing from the rocks.
At 1 PM, the sun was blazing, so we headed back to Vila and dried the fish for the following days.
At 6 PM, we went fishing again, but this time at night from the rocks at the end of Vila beach.
8:30 PM: back to shower and eat at the restaurant.
The rocks and sea at Ponta Preta
Day 3 (Sunday): from Vila do Maio to Calheta de Baixo, via Monte Batalha (path 101) Hiking time: 5h
Since there aren’t many “summits” on Maio, we decided to head to Calheta de Baixo but via Monte Batalha. We left at 8:20 AM and somehow made it to Monte Batalha by 11 AM (2h40 of hiking). But the path is really hard to find in the middle of the dry grass and acacia trees. We kind of cut through randomly, aiming for the summit. Even though it’s not very high (around 300 m), the view is amazing—you can see all of Maio at 360°!
Short 30-minute break. The descent through the “forest” of acacias is even worse for finding your way. We oriented ourselves a bit by the sun to find the road connecting Vila to Calheta. We arrived around 1:30 PM at Calheta de Baixo. A very pretty little seaside village with colorful houses. An idyllic beach, a newly renovated square, and super-friendly people. We pitched our tent facing the sea on the terrace of an abandoned house (after asking the locals for permission).
We cooked some of the dried fish we’d caught the day before, along with fresh beans we’d brought from Fogo (and were still carrying!).
At the summit of Monte Batalha
Calheta
Calheta de Baixo
Day 4 (Monday): From Calheta de Baixo to Morrinho on foot. Hiking time: 3h. Then hitching a bus to Cascabulho, and a car to Pedro Vaz.
We left around 9:30 AM heading north (path 201), following the coastline where the beaches just keep coming—each one wilder and more beautiful than the last: Praia de Soca, Calheta Braca, Ponta de Pau Seco, Calhetina. We reached the dunes of Baia de Santana. There’s no real path, so you have to follow the coast, then go around the dunes, and when you spot the 3 coconut trees, head east toward them to find the track leading to Morrinho. Again, we discovered a village with a Wild West vibe, with colorful houses lined up on either side of a paved road. Just enough time to accept a drink offered by a local before jumping onto the passing school bus that took us to Cascabulho. There, we waited for a ride. A political delegation of 10 cars drove right past us without stopping. Luckily, one of the cars had a flat tire and came by 30 minutes later—and that one, thankfully, gave us a lift! They were heading to the inauguration of a water pump in Pedro Vaz. So that’s where we stopped too. After getting permission from the school principal, we pitched our tent in front of the village school… and became the attraction for all the kids who kept us company until nightfall! A woman gave us 2 jugs of water, but with all that company, it was tough to take a peaceful shower!!
Dinner: pasta with beans.
We were woken up by rain during the night and had to rush to bring all our stuff inside the tent!
The beaches just keep coming...
The dunes
The 3 coconut trees, a landmark to find the track
Day 5 (Tuesday): Rest day and fishing at Boca da Ribeira beach
We packed up at 8 AM because the kids had school. We filled the 2 water jugs that the woman lent us and headed down to camp at Boca da Ribeira beach, which is a bit further east of Pedro Vaz. It took less than an hour to get there. This time, we really were alone in the world! We pitched the tent and spent the day fishing, reading, playing, and swimming regularly because the sun was beating down hard!!! We caught a nice fish that we grilled over the fire in the evening. With the crabs and shellfish we gathered, we made a seafood rice! Yum! What a feast!
That night, once the tent was zipped up, we felt something like rain on the tent fabric. I decided to go out and gather our things, and then—shock!!! It wasn’t raindrops we were feeling and hearing, but bugs attracted by the light!! Not just a few bugs—a huge swarm of them!!! Thousands of bugs covering the whole tent, the ropes, slipping into the seams and hems! Everywhere! The blue tent had turned green!!! After that, it was a real struggle to get back inside without letting any in! A real challenge, and there were always 3 or 4 that managed to sneak in anyway. Total war!!!
Boca da Ribeira beach
Day 6 (Wednesday): From Boca da Ribeira to Ribeira Dom João. Hiking time: 3h30
We woke up leisurely and waited for the sun to dry our things, damp from the dew. A man passed by, and we gave him the water jugs we’d borrowed, which saved us a trip back to Pedro Vaz to return them to the woman.
We left around 10 AM. We followed the sea to Alcatraz, then headed toward Pilão Cão. The path runs alongside the small hills on our right, and we passed above Lagoa Cimidor. The terrain is arid, and the path is hard to find among the many goat tracks.
After 3h30 of hiking, we reached Ribeira Dom João with 2 young people we’d met along the way.
Since it was a public holiday in Cape Verde, the kids didn’t have school, and with the principal’s permission, we pitched our tent in the kindergarten. She even kindly opened the school toilets for us. The neighbor gave us the water we needed to wash up and cook. We cooked beef steaks on charcoal. A nice change from fish!! Charcoal is a widespread artisanal product on the island. People almost never cook directly over wood but always with these big chunks of charcoal.
The hills on our right
Ribeira Dom João
Day 7 (Thursday): From Ribeira Dom João to Vila do Maio. Hiking time: 3h30
We woke up at 6:30 AM to clear out of the school by 8 AM. The neighbor made us coffee to save time. It took us 2 hours to reach Barreiro, another Wild West-style town! Since we didn’t want to walk on the road, we took the old track and reached Vila do Maio in 1h30.
Last night before taking the plane back to Praia the next day.
Barreiro
The old track
The church in Vila do Maio
That’s where this trip ends!
Maio is truly a magical island! A remote, isolated place with incredible, wild beaches and villages with a Wild West feel—colorful houses on either side of well-paved, well-maintained, and decorated streets. And the locals are so warm and welcoming.
Even for hikers like us, it was a great discovery, and we were able to alternate hiking and relaxation with great pleasure! Too bad the area around Vila do Maio is being overrun by real estate construction—ongoing, unfinished, abandoned…
And we still haven’t seen everything!
Before setting off for new horizons at the end of this year, it’s time for me to share my trip to Cape Verde this summer 2025.
I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.
As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!
Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.
So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:
Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)
São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...
Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.
And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...
That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)
Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!
Hi everyone, we're back from a DIY USA road trip we organized from July 31, 2026, to August 26, 2026.
The destination: The Southwest USA, including Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Roughly 7,000 kilometers covered.
The car: A Chevrolet Equinox for two, rented through BSP Auto and Avis. Inside, we had 2 suitcases, a travel bag, two carry-on bags, a Walmart cooler, photo gear, and water bottles (a 40-pack).
The route: Dallas DFW, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Alpine, El Paso, Tucson, Sedona, Albuquerque, Amarillo, and back to Dallas to finish with a departure from DFW.
The travelers: Two seniors well advanced in years (73 and 75) but still active (nothing too physically demanding—to stay alive and fund our trips), fully independent physically, though a bit less so mentally. Big USA fans, a country where anything is possible. More walkers than hikers, preferring 3-star hotels over roadside motels, Italian restaurants over US food, frequent stops for photos, museums over nothing, naps over forced marches. Not too whiny, just enough to stay French in the land of the "great Satan," as they say.
Not great with languages—street English (but handy), and my Spanish is non-existent except for: "Hola! Una cerveza por favor!" That’s about it. My wife understands everything but refuses to speak.
The cost of the road trip: Around 12,000 €, including AF flights, the car, gas, gifts, visits, and everything else. Well managed, since we’d budgeted 13,500 € initially.
The positive side: A delight, with those endless open roads. Museums to discover. The realization of the Hispanic presence and its important history in this part of America. Lovely locals. Tourists who were more or less friendly. A terrible Texan accent that was hard to understand. Gas stations that were like real stores, with prepared food, alcohol sold in Arizona and New Mexico, and employees who were always up for a laugh!
The negative side: The heat throughout the trip... 43°C in Dallas at the end. Impossible to walk the streets. Lots of homeless people in downtown Dallas. Hotel breakfasts that were always the same. You get used to it.
So, it was positive overall, but the concept is starting to wear us out. We might rethink the DIY road trip model for next time. If the man upstairs grants us more time.
Next up, we’ll wait for the first batch of sorted photos to go through the wringer.
It was winter, a winter with beautiful weather,
A season that only exists in the southwest of America,
I remember very well what I told you that morning
A month ago... A century ago, an eternity ago...
We’ll go... wherever you want, whenever you want...
Well, yeah, back from our adventure in our enchanting American West just a month ago, we’re already taking a bite out of one of its lesser-known competitors. "Flo, if you had to pick just one reason to justify your love for the U.S., what would it be?" The greasy, dripping burgers? No, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by saying it’d be the wide-open spaces... And that’s exactly what our new quest is taking us to—a land on the other side of the globe where the horizon also seems endless, where silence tastes like salty wind and sand, where freedom is measured in kilometers of desert tracks, where the GPS is mostly there to confirm you’re lost in the middle of nowhere... Add to that magic formula the fact that you’ll see more zebras, giraffes, wildebeest, and elephants than people per square kilometer, and you can imagine us setting foot in Southern Africa for the first time, more precisely at the small airport in Windhoek, capital of... of...? Brush up on your geography, damn it! We’re landing in Namibia!!!
To be honest, Namibian landscapes have been flirting with me for ages. So how did I resist this island of temptation for so long? First, the budget. Let’s just say that for the same amount of effort (and kidneys), the bank lets you choose two other adventures almost anywhere else on the planet. Then there were my girls. Yeah, back then, they were too little to dose up on Malarone, the only malaria remedy at the time... Long story short, ten years later, all the planets have aligned. First, I won the Euromillions! Well, almost... Let’s just say my girls are now old enough... not to take Malarone, but to stop following me on all my adventures! Jackpot! "Flo, how about a little two-person caprice, just the two of us, tackling the Namibian tracks?"
As we landed on the runway, first wow effect: The horizon is immense. It’s flat as can be, incredibly flat... So much flat space! Did I mention it was flat?... Looking into the distance, it feels like your gaze could circle the Earth without hitting a single obstacle—until you end up staring at your own backside. "Oh, what a nice view!" Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen my butt from this angle! Touching moment... Sorry, I’m rambling—must be the exhaustion from the three-flight marathon we just powered through via Ethiopia and South Africa... And yet, no time to philosophize about my anatomy. As usual, we want to rack up our first kilometers to be front and center at dawn tomorrow. After wrapping up the tedious Namibian immigration formalities and meeting the 4x4 that’ll be our companion day and night for the next fifteen days, we’re off! We’re not exactly fresh, but we’re ready to tackle the next five hundred kilometers in night mode, cruise control set due south! Just outside Windhoek, the local wildlife—a jackal—welcomes us with a smile: "Welcome to Namibia!" That’s what it said! Honest... Okay, first endless straight road, first flaming sunset, first corrugated dirt track, first Milky Way with zero light pollution... You get it—it’s definitely the day of firsts... First night camping, too, in the big trunk of our Toyota Fortuner parked by the side of the track... The real adventure, the kind that smells under the arms, can finally begin...
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?
So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?
For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.
"How about a Christmas market this year, huh? A little romantic weekend getaway...
- Yes! That’d be cool! Strasbourg? Colmar?
- Feels a bit déjà vu, doesn’t it? Plus, slim chance of snow there... And I’d love something a bit more exotic with a touch of originality..."
"Okay, Google, give me the list of the five most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe.
- In fifth place, the Christmas market in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania.
- Save your breath! Lithuania, here we come!"
We wanted cold, and cold is exactly what we got the moment we set foot in this new, unknown land. As for landscapes, forests and lakes stretch as far as the eye can see across this vast plain, its vegetation scorched by the frost of a winter that’s clearly already well underway here.
Lakes, in fact, set the scene for our first visit to Trakai Castle, whose brick-red towers and walls rise proudly against the azure sky of our first day. Lakes, because this castle was built on an island and is only accessible on foot via a series of walkways spanning half-frozen lake offshoots. I couldn’t have picked a better spot to build my castle! Translation: We’re totally sold! Proof is we spend two hours hiking around the area, alternating between forests, reeds, and cozy houses tastefully decorated for Christmas.
With my girlfriend Christelle, we’ve chosen South Africa for our first trip to Southern Africa, focusing on safaris—after a long debate with a Cape Town/Kruger combo.
But that would’ve meant cutting out St Lucia, which would’ve been harder to fit into another trip.
And St Lucia—thanks to Michel and all those travel journals—we really wanted to go there.
So our 11-night itinerary ended up like this, mostly shaped by school holidays:
- 3 nights in St Lucia
- 1 night in Hluhluwe
- 1 night at Mkhaya Game Reserve (Eswatini)
- 1 night at Hlane Royal National Park (Eswatini)
- 3 nights in Kruger (Berg en Dal / Satara / Tamboti)
- 1 night at Shindzela Tented Camp in the Timbavati private reserve
- 1 final night in Kruger at Lower Sabie
All of this in the off-season and rainy season, just a month after catastrophic floods that killed over 150 people and seriously damaged Kruger’s infrastructure.
I’ll jump straight to St Lucia and skip the loooong journey to get there (with a layover in Frankfurt, landing in Johannesburg, a domestic flight to Durban, and the rest by rental SUV—First Car Rental, perfect, no complaints).
To motivate readers—especially some familiar faces here—I’ll drop in a first photo.
This travel journal is therefore intended solely for my photos, to present a consistent style.
All the shots were taken with a simple Samsung Galaxy smartphone and with whatever was at hand.
All stays combined, I’ve spent the equivalent of three years at most in Thailand, and I’m not a big expert on the country.
However, after many trips, lots of reading on VoyageForum and other sites, and conversations with many locals as well as expats, my view of the country is becoming clearer, though it’s constantly evolving. You never stop discovering and learning.
I guess I wanted to piece together a puzzle, mainly for those who want to get an idea of the country here and for those who miss it.
I don’t know if this minimalist sharing will interest anyone, but it’ll do me good to put it together. After so many months without traveling and then these other long months with VF closed, there’s plenty of material available.
There’ll be a mix of places, periods, and subjects, but it might well be intentional.
I suspect many Thais have dogs because they make excellent guards for the home. Nothing better to deter burglars or to signal the presence of a snake. You’ll often see Thais tapping the top of their dog’s head, but don’t be fooled: it’s a sign of affection from them. Judging by the dogs’ reactions, they’re used to it.
Thailand is one of the countries on the planet where rabies is still present, so keep that in mind. It’s not just bites that can be dangerous, so don’t let just any dog lick you. Especially on a wound, of course.
Even though dogs often fear humans—this dangerous and unpredictable predator—we still need to stay cautious.
Be careful when walking into alleys because the dog will defend its master’s big property, be careful at night, and be careful when they’re in packs.
It sometimes crosses our minds that Thailand isn’t really made for walking around, and dogs are one of the reasons.
That said, it’s not uncommon to see them chasing bikes or scooters. Cars, though, are much rarer—they’re too big.
It seems Thais prefer to give their dogs freedom by not locking them behind gates. Though sometimes the gate is closed, the little side door is wide open. Oh, and sometimes there’s no gate in front of the property, or it’s been broken for years.
You’ll often see dogs sleeping on the side of the road, sometimes right on the road. When you arrive, they move aside nonchalantly—or not at all. It’s less funny when they suddenly appear from thick vegetation, which reminds visitors not to drive too fast. As a result, you’ll notice that dogs with injuries or missing legs aren’t that rare.
Since they believe in reincarnation and respect for all forms of life, they don’t chase dog packs away too much, and they don’t sterilize them enough. Seeing a small pack roaming freely in the countryside, you might think it’s best not to cross paths with them at the edge of a field.
A darker side of this is that euthanasia isn’t often practiced. Twice, we saw dogs at temples on the brink of death, enduring terrible suffering. No one did anything about it. The image (and the smell) of one of them, dying and emitting the stench of death, still comes back to me sometimes.
Some of you may have seen the YouTube vlog of a French woman living in Phuket who was given a little pig by her Thai friends. The well-fed animal quickly became a happy, enormous beast with its own garden. Yet, it didn’t take long for it to fall seriously ill and become incurable. In her video, the French woman described how difficult it was to find a vet willing to perform euthanasia.
You’ll often see bowls by the side of the road. Thais leave food and water in them for stray cats and dogs. Overall, they have a big heart for animals.
If you ever pop into a shopping mall, you might see people pushing their small dogs in strollers. It’s not a gimmick—it’s just that these strollers are provided for customers to put their pets in, otherwise you can’t bring them inside. It looks a bit odd when you expect to see a baby.
When we started looking for a summer destination a few months ago, our first criterion was to avoid extreme heat and heatwaves. We had already been to Norway two years ago and are considering going back in the future for other occasions. So, we had some fun asking ChatGPT which destinations enjoyed a mild climate during the summer without going too far. Among the list provided by the AI were the Canary Islands... The idea of a place we wouldn’t have thought of first, both not too far away and exotic enough, appealed to us: “Hmm, why not?”
This destination had never really attracted me, though Magali was a bit more interested. Five years earlier, COVID had caused a short break in my professional activity, and I had planned a trip because the flight price was attractive, and I was looking for a destination different from what usually appeals to me, more than out of deep interest. From a distance and with a social judgment I acknowledge (it’s not great, but it’s not completely wrong), I had the image of a destination for party-goers enjoying the sun without the slightest interest in local culture, with concrete coastlines and denatured landscapes—everything I detest the most. Still, I had done some quick research on the different islands and spotted Lanzarote for its beautiful volcanic landscapes, hiking trails, beaches, and the impression of a good balance between activity and fewer crowds than Tenerife or Gran Canaria. Then I dropped the idea of going, without ever reconsidering traveling to the Canaries...
Until now! Because we started researching the different islands of the archipelago to see which ones might appeal to us the most. It was La Gomera, the third smallest island of the archipelago, more praised for its hiking trails and preserved nature than for its beaches, away from mass tourism (fifty times fewer tourists than Tenerife) but still a bit more developed than its wild neighbor El Hierro, that caught our attention. Contrary to what might be suggested later, I’m not at all addicted to AI, but I use it from time to time to synthesize quick research or simply for experimentation. Since ChatGPT had started anticipating my tastes lately as if it had become my buddy (often successfully, sometimes off the mark), I asked which Canary Island would suit me best for a trip with my family. The tool answered first with... La Gomera. So, I tested it and teased it a bit to see if this suggestion was well-founded, as the method sometimes makes it contradict itself. But no luck: “You’d appreciate the wild nature of El Hierro, but with family, you’ll find little activity for the kids. You won’t like the touristy vibe of the big islands like Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, and Fuerteventura. You could consider La Palma, but it’s really La Gomera that will suit you best, based on your interests and the criteria given.” So, we dug deeper into our research and were convinced without a shadow of a doubt that this island was the one waiting for us.
Without knowing it, we had Canarians in our circle who revealed their origins when they heard about our travel plans. One from Tenerife insisted we’d be better off choosing Tenerife (obviously...) because it also has preserved spots and that La Gomera, “you can explore it in two or three days, you’ll get bored quickly...” The other, a colleague from Gran Canaria who had never visited La Gomera, still recommended it without hesitation because it turned out her parents had just gone there on vacation: they loved it and had encountered few tourists. She also tended to think this destination was usually the subject of short stays, but according to what her parents told her, taking your time there was also a great idea. However, in our research, the idea that La Gomera is an island you can explore in three or four days max kept coming up. So, we considered combining its visit with La Palma or El Hierro, the other two that caught our eye. But hopping between islands by ferry represents a significant budget for non-Canarians, even more so for a family of four. Then, scrutinizing Google Maps, it seemed obvious that two weeks were too short to discover two islands as they deserve, and that there seemed to be plenty to see in La Gomera, given its very unique culture. After all, we read that some people spend several months a year there, others never even leave... Finally, these landscapes and this atmosphere, which seemed to us a mix of Europe, North Africa, and Latin America, tempted us. So, it would be two weeks in La Gomera, deal!
La Gomera is therefore the second... well, the third smallest island of the Canaries since La Graciosa was recently recognized as a fully inhabited island. It has the shape of a rough circle about 20 to 25 kilometers in diameter and has just over 20,000 inhabitants, half of them in its capital, San Sebastián de la Gomera, the only real town. Like its Canarian sisters, La Gomera is a volcanic formation that rose about 10 million years ago. The island is very mountainous and rugged, covered with red and black rocky landscapes. Geological activity has shaped, between the sprawling massifs that end in steep cliffs in the ocean, six coastal valleys with tropical vegetation that have favored human settlement. They divide the island like slices of a cake; from the north clockwise: the agricultural Vallehermoso, the rustic Agulo, the green, humid, and fertile Hermigua, the sunny capital San Sebastián de la Gomera, the southern and isolated Alajeró-Santiago, and the seaside Valle Gran Rey. They constitute the six municipalities (more like cantons to our French understanding) of the territory.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
La Gomera was populated late. As with the rest of the Canaries, human presence is thought to have begun about 2,000 years ago. Groups of animist Berbers, probably fleeing persecution, gradually populated the archipelago, especially the western islands and La Gomera, becoming its small aboriginal population: the Guanches (or later Gomeros). The animist and pastoral civilization of the Guanches thrived until the Spanish takeover in the 15th century, which, after a short period of harmony and mixing with the indigenous people, suddenly ended in bloodshed... La Gomera later became the “Columbus Island” after Christopher Columbus’s stopover, increasing the blending of populations. In the 20th century, many Gomeros emigrated to Cuba and other Latin American countries in search of a better life, bringing back a mix of cultures and traits quite palpable in today’s Gomeran culture. It is, however, in La Gomera that the vestiges of Guanche culture seem to have left the most traces, in the language, gastronomy, social practices... Moreover, most Gomeros, especially in remote villages, have a particular identifiable type and proudly claim their ancestral roots, even making La Gomera a bit exotic in the eyes of other Canarians.
Perhaps that’s why it has never really wanted to develop its tourist infrastructure too much. If we set aside the tourists who visit for the day by bus or boat from Tenerife on a marked itinerary (and whom we ultimately rarely encounter), La Gomera has remained a hidden gem, a destination focused on nature discovery that attracts hikers, nature-loving divers, and scientists for its fauna and flora, and to a lesser extent, beachgoers who don’t seek overly developed coastlines. Tourist activity is therefore limited. Roughly speaking, you’ll find a majority of Spaniards, including a substantial number of residents from other Canary Islands, many Germans who have a particular fondness for La Gomera and spend long stays there or own second homes, to the point that the German cultural footprint is clearly noticeable in some places (it’s said to be Angela Merkel’s favorite holiday spot), and still quite a few French. The presence of other nationalities seemed negligible to us. Most travelers come mainly for hiking, but it’s also a prime spot for whale watching. Additionally, the seaside resorts of La Gomera—San Sebastián, Santiago, and especially Valle Gran Rey—are well-known destinations for hippies, especially German ones, ranging from chic boho hippies to old-school hippies who’ve been there for decades, quite similar to those you’d meet in India in Goa, Rishikesh, or Paharganj. Thus, practices like naturism, vegetarianism, and local organic production are quite well established in some areas.
Some practical info:
- The round-trip flight from Paris to Tenerife cost us 365 € per person (outbound with Transavia, return with EasyJet), including checked luggage and three seats reserved side by side.
- We chose two bases to explore the island: one week in Valle Gran Rey, reputed to be the most pleasant of the three seaside resorts, and one week in Hermigua, more mountainous and close to the natural park. We booked two houses with balconies and views: the first at 120 € per night, the second at 99 €.
- The round-trip ferry between Tenerife and La Gomera cost us 270 € with the company Baleària Canarias, including discounts for children aged 4 and 12, but I don’t have the exact details. It was a bit cheaper than with the other company, Fred Olsen.
- Finally, we rented a car through the agency Cicar for 360 € for 16 days, which comes to 22.50 € per day.
- Apart from that, we didn’t plan anything and decided the day before or even the morning of what we wanted to do. We didn’t invest in any paper guide on the Canaries, as information on La Gomera was scarce, but we used the very comprehensive site La Gomera Travel, a travel guide published by the Canary Islands Tourism Council, a real goldmine of almost exhaustive information on the island.
Alright, off we go for 16 days of adventure discovering La Gomera!
If I close my eyes and think of the Sultanate of Oman, I first smell a light scent of incense, feel the warmth of a sunbeam on my skin, before sand slips through my fingers. I taste the sweetness of a date, a real candy, then the flavor of coffee with a hint of cardamom and rosewater... I hear the desert wind whistling in my ears, the distant call of a muezzin, then the murmur of water. I open my eyes to see smiles, welcoming gestures, a turquoise sea, rocks ranging from ochre to purple, deep wadis where torrents burst forth, orange dunes, white sandy beaches where tiny crabs scurry at full speed. I see incredible oases emerging between arid mountains. I see abandoned villages that I’d dream were full of life, imposing fortresses overlooking valleys, and lively souks where offers are delicate and negotiation is a mutual courtesy.
All that, and so much more.
This is what I tried to capture in my illustrated travel journal, which I’ll fill in here and there with photos.
I drew this journal “cold,” after my return (actually, I made it this summer, while our trip was last winter). It’s a pretty special format—I bought it in Japan without really knowing what I’d do with it. Well, it found its purpose! Below is a photo of this accordion-style journal: here, it’s only partially open, because when fully unfolded, it’s 5 meters long!
For drawing enthusiasts: The accordion format is both a constraint (each sheet is 9 cm x 27 cm) and a freedom (you can create a fresco). The paper is also a bit special: it doesn’t allow for fine lines, but it takes ink well (liner pen). However, everything has to be done almost in one go (with a very light pencil sketch) because it erases poorly. It absorbs too much water for coloring with markers or watercolors (unless you avoid soaking it), but it works well with oil pastels and their use with a brush and solvent. Since it’s yellowish, it allowed me to create contrasts even with white pastel.
On the right, the "welcome marker"—those dates offered everywhere as a sign of hospitality. On the left, a tribute to those stunning doors worn by time, admired all over the old quarters, including the abandoned ones.
Oman is one of the world’s largest producers of frankincense resin. Incense burners are everywhere, from the simplest clay ones to the most precious handcrafted silver ones...
Hospitality will often lead you to accept a small coffee, an "Omani coffee," very light, subtly flavored with cardamom, maybe a touch of saffron, and occasionally rosewater.
Here, I’ve depicted a man in the common everyday attire of Omanis: the dishdasha, mostly white (during the week and daytime; colors are more common in the evening or on Fridays and Saturdays). While you’ll see some men dressed in Western clothes, they’re very few. The white dishdasha is truly the shared attire of all men. The dishdasha, which has no hood, is distinguished by a small pom-pom attached to the collar, the furakha, which is soaked in perfume. And believe me, Omanis go overboard with it! "It smells like the pom-pom" is an expression that’s now part of our shared language, my husband and I.
Another must of men’s attire is the kuma, a small round head covering, usually white with brightly colored patterns. The keffiyeh is also worn (but without the cord called an agal in Arab countries), and it’s mostly worn by those with roots in the desert, from what I understood.
And what about the women, you might ask? Some are veiled, some in full black (but not a burka—more like a chador + abaya), due to the influence of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, whereas the traditional outfit used to be a layering of very colorful dresses. Most of the women we saw wore neutral clothing, a plain veil over their hair, but with their faces uncovered. We also saw many saris and colorful veils—don’t forget that 40% of the population consists of Indian, Nepalese, and Bangladeshi immigrants, who work a lot in tourism, hospitality, restaurants, services, and construction.
Just to clarify, as a tourist, there’s no pressure to wear a veil, and never any disapproving looks. Of course, you’ll save the mini shorts, plunging necklines, bare shoulders, and midriffs for the hotel terrace—but I’d say that’s the same for men and women, and with the sun being strong, it’s better for your skin too.
Here’s the introduction! In the next post, I’ll tell you about my itinerary, and we can dive in!
My buddy Christian and I (Patrick) are off for 28 days in Argentina in March.
We’ve already shared several trips as a duo (Bolivia Peru, Namibia, Laos, Costa Rica).
Since we’re starting from the idea that at our age (65) we won’t be coming back here—there are just too many other corners of the world to discover—we did the "grand tour" of Argentina, with 6 domestic flights to make the most of our 28 days.
Here are our stops:
1) Departure from Brussels to Buenos Aires via Madrid
2) Arrival and first contact with Buenos Aires
3) Early morning flight to Ushuaia. Boat trip on the Beagle Channel
4) Ushuaia: hikes in Tierra del Fuego National Park
5) Ushuaia: last hike and flight to El Calafate
6) El Calafate to El Chaltén by bus. First hike
7) El Chaltén: hike
8) El Chaltén: hike
9) El Chaltén: hike and bus back to El Calafate
10) El Calafate: Perito Moreno Glacier
11) Flight to Bariloche. Car rental and surrounding areas
12) Seven Lakes Region
13) Nahuel Huapi National Park region
14) Flight to Salta. Car rental
15) To Tilcara
16) To Humahuaca
17) To Purmamarca
18) To Jujuy via the salt flats
19) To Cafayate
20) Around Cafayate
21) To Cachi
22) Back to Salta
23) Flight to Iguazu
24) Waterfalls on the Argentine side
25) Waterfalls on the Brazilian side and flight to Buenos Aires
26) Buenos Aires
27) Return flight
28) Morning arrival
Happy reading!..
We landed in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, and headed straight to Kasane in Botswana to pick up our car.
Our vehicle is a 4x4 because in Zambia, it's practically impossible to use anything else, especially in the national parks. I’ve already had the pleasure of visiting South Luangwa National Park—it’s one of the reasons for this trip, the main one being to travel in Africa with one of my sons.
First stop: Livingstone on the banks of the Zambezi River. Along the way, we discovered a lovely restaurant at Socrates with a super-friendly owner (we’ll actually stop there again on our way back). We spent our first night in the rooftop tent after a stunning sunset, accompanied by the grunting of hippos in the river.
The next day, we set off early, heading to Kafue NP. In fact, we’ll always leave early—waking up between 5:00 and 5:30 AM and hitting the road an hour later. Kafue is a lesser-known park, mostly forested, and the animals are skittish because they’re not used to human presence. We crossed the park from south to north and came across various antelopes. Near Lake Itezhi-Tezhi, there are plains where wildlife is easier to spot.
After Kafue, we headed to South Luangwa. This journey requires stops in Mumbwa and Petauke. Two pleasant stops where we found lodges (a nice change from the rooftop tent) at affordable prices and met welcoming people.
For me, South Luangwa is Zambia’s most beautiful park—the river is stunning, the landscapes are gorgeous, and there’s a wide variety of wildlife, including, of course, big cats. A tip for those, like us, who aren’t with a guide: if you’re staying near the park for several days, don’t hesitate to do a "game drive" to scout out where the animals are so you can return the next day with your own vehicle. Of course, in the dry season, you’ll want to focus on waterholes to see the animals—and you’ll need a bit of luck too. The elephant population is growing, and we were lucky enough to see around sixty elephants crossing the Luangwa at dawn, spread across several groups. South Luangwa is the westernmost point of our trip, and we’re now heading east to Lower Zambezi.
Lower Zambezi is Zambia’s side of Mana Pools on the Zimbabwe side. We took a boat ride on the Zambezi to see elephants, hippos, crocodiles, and a multitude of birds living along the water and on the river’s islands. The sunset there is also magnificent.
To explore the park, we followed the waterways parallel to the Zambezi, mostly on the western side (see our route). Lower Zambezi is the last park we visit, and the final leg of our trip will be Victoria Falls.
Victoria Falls—or Mosi-Oa-Tunya ("The Smoke That Thunders")—are truly impressive, even during the dry season. We saw the falls from both countries: in Zambia for the overall view and the bridge that serves as the border, and in Zimbabwe to get as close as possible to the most spectacular parts of the falls.
This marks the end of our trip, which, despite a blown tire on the road, went off without any major issues. Zambia is a beautiful country that immerses you in wild, still-preserved nature.
The latest travel journal about Turkmenistan dates back to 2019. Here’s a quick update on this vast desert country, which is now a bit easier to visit than before.
This is my first travel journal. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. The country is slowly opening up, but it’s still possible to visit sites where you’ll be completely alone. In five days, I saw two Hongkongers, a few Germans, and a Chilean at the crater, ten Chinese people in a capital bazaar, and that’s it!
It’s possible to visit Turkmenistan from Uzbekistan. The easiest and most economical way is to take a taxi to the border from Bukhara. The trip takes a little over an hour.
Crossing the border takes quite a while because many Turkmen bring back items bought in Uzbekistan to resell in Turkmenistan. For example, diapers, baby products, or beauty products.
It took me over 2.5 hours to cross the border. To visit Turkmenistan, it’s mandatory to have a guide and go through a travel agency. British agencies often offer three-, five-, or seven-day trips for over 1,500 or 2,000 €.
But if your budget is more limited, you can contact a few Turkmen agencies directly by email, and they’ll make you an offer between 700 and 1,300 € for three to seven days. I took a five-day trip from Turkmenabat in the northeast of the country to Dashoguz in the north. The goal was to visit the main UNESCO-listed sites, including Merv, and archaeological sites like Nisa or Gonur Tepe.
Your guide will also be your driver. They’ll pick you up at the border. The formalities are very long because customs officers have to stamp multiple documents, and obtaining the visa you previously requested from your travel agency requires several checks. But the process goes relatively smoothly, even if each step takes a while.
Once on the other side, the first surprise is the brand-new highway all the way to Turkmenabat. A very long line of trucks stretches for several kilometers on the Turkmen side to cross the border into Uzbekistan. According to my guide, Turkmen trucks transport gas and cotton (though not this season, since the harvest is in September), but they mainly fill up their tanks because fuel is much cheaper in Turkmenistan. A full tank for a car costs about 3 €, which is unbeatable.
From the Farap border post, the goal is to reach the city of Mary, which is home to the UNESCO-listed site of Merv in its suburbs, about thirty kilometers away. This city is known as a foundation by Alexander the Great in the 4th century BC under the name Alexandria of Margiana. Several fortresses are visible.
After more than three hours on the road, we have lunch at a Turkish restaurant called Aladdin. Several quotes from the president are visible along the highway, but the road is in good condition, and we move along easily. This will be by far the best road in the country—things will get much worse later.
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while.
When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing.
The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).
It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.
Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.
It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.
Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.
Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.
Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd
Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.
The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.
The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.
The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
My partner and I traveled from Sunday, July 5, 2026, to Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
We spent a long time debating whether to rent a car or use public transportation. In the end, after reading so many posts about travelers getting scammed by police or rental companies—even those recommended by blogs and reviews—we decided to stick with public transport. It worked out really well. Sure, we had a little less freedom to go where we wanted, but it was way less stressful for us.
Sunday, July 5:
Arrived at Cancun Airport. Withdrew cash from the ATM in the terminal just before exiting. The ADO bus counter (they pronounce it "A-Jee-O") is right behind you when you're facing the ATM. Bus to downtown Cancun cost 145 pesos per person.
Stayed at "Rose 5," booked on Booking. The studio was super clean and perfect for one night. The owner’s instructions for accessing the place were very precise, with photos included. Check-in was self-service with a code. The ADO bus terminal isn’t far, and there are shops and restaurants nearby. We really appreciated that the AC was already on when we arrived. By the way, I’d recommend always booking places with AC—it’s *really* hot in Mexico.
Monday, July 6:
Bought a SIM card with data from a TELCEL store. My partner, who’s on Free Mobile, was able to use her regular plan. Just so you know, I found the network pretty unstable. As soon as we left the cities, neither of us—me with TELCEL or her with Free—had any signal.
Another thing to watch out for: roaming charges. I had to turn my SIM back on for less than 30 seconds to get a bank SMS code, and my phone apparently connected to the internet—resulting in an 8-euro roaming fee.
Left on an ADO bus to Chiquila for 278 pesos per person. During our trip, ADO buses were always on time, comfortable, and clean. The AC is *cranked* though, so bring something to cover up with—it gets cold. Some routes were fully booked even in the low season, so try to reserve 1 or 2 days in advance either via the app (when it works) or at the counter.
When we arrived at the ADO terminal in Chiquila, the ferry company counters were right next to it. Ferries leave every 30 minutes, alternating between companies, so no need to book ahead. Just take whichever one is leaving next (330 pesos per person).
When we got to Holbox (pronounced "Hol-bosh"), we’d booked a place via Booking called "Casa de Nana." It was a huge studio with a fridge, cooking plate, and utensils. The best part? The *location*. It was 100 meters from the beach and 200 meters from a Chedraui supermarket. They provided bath towels and beach towels, and the AC worked perfectly. There’s a key box so you can leave your keys inside when you go out. The only downside was that no one was there to let us in when we arrived, so we had to wait a while. The Wi-Fi was good, which was lucky because during our 4-day stay in Holbox, the phone network *never* worked. According to locals, that’s pretty common in Holbox, along with water outages.
Luckily, I’d had the good idea to download an offline map, which helped us find our way back to the place more easily. You can walk there from the dock.
The restaurant next to our place (La Barracuda) was great if you like seafood—I’d recommend their octopus dishes.
Tuesday, July 7:
We did a kayak tour in Holbox’s mangroves at 6 AM. We were looking for a sunrise kayak tour with a French-speaking guide. That’s exactly what we got with "Kayaking Holbox," where Diego, the owner, speaks English and French. He was joined by Gustavo, another guide.
We’d booked for a group tour, but we were the only ones. Diego still went ahead with it instead of canceling due to lack of participants, so we got a private tour at the group rate—really professional of him. They showed us this amazing ecosystem for over 3 hours. We saw all kinds of birds: pink flamingos, pelicans, egrets, frigatebirds... rays, a horseshoe crab, and a little crocodile that was *so* well hidden. Diego and Gustavo have a real eye for spotting animals—I could’ve passed by the crocodile 100 times and never seen it, it blended in so well. Their explanations about the flora and fauna were super interesting. We also got a little break where we tasted mangoes and bananas that taste *nothing* like the ones in France. A real treat—those little Mexican yellow mangoes! I’d definitely recommend Diego and his agency for a French-language kayak tour (1000 pesos per person).
In the evening, we walked to Punta Coco to see the bioluminescence. No need for a guided tour—if you really don’t want to walk, you can take a taxi. At Punta Coco, you have to pass the beach bar/restaurant and then go left into a kind of inlet that forms a lagoon. You have to wiggle your feet or move your hands in the water to create movement, which makes the light appear. Just don’t expect the kind of photos you’ve seen online—they’re all edited! It’s fun to see, but you won’t be dazzled by the light...
Wednesday, July 8:
Whale shark tour with "My Holbox Tours." Why recommend this agency over others for swimming with whale sharks? Simply because Valérie surrounds herself with top professionals to make your experience unforgettable. We were with Captain Fernando, who does everything to position the boat perfectly and make your swim easier. In the water, we were with Humberto, who also goes above and beyond to make sure you have an incredible time. He doesn’t just "supervise" like some guides from other companies who leave you on your own. No, Humberto reads the whale shark’s trajectory and guides you—all you have to do is follow him. He really puts in the effort, even holding your hand to guide you through this quick but intense encounter. Humberto also films the moment and will offer to show you the videos and sell them to you. His footage is really high quality.
Fernando and Humberto also prepared food for us. Special mention for their guacamole! Valérie is there to make sure everything goes smoothly on the boat and to answer your questions in French, English, or Spanish about these animals. If you choose My Holbox Tours, you can be sure you’ll get a top-notch experience.
About the tour itself: before you go, you should know that the sharks can be *really* far away. The day we went, it took 3.5 hours by boat to reach them. The boats are small, and let me tell you—on the way there, when we weren’t going with the waves, it was *rough*. Out of 9 passengers, 4 got seasick. But once you’re face-to-face with the shark, you forget all about that. Even if swimming with a whale shark isn’t exactly a walk in the park—they swim pretty fast, so you need some endurance to keep up. You’ll usually get 2 turns. Our first swim lasted a little over 4 minutes, and the second about 2 minutes because the shark was moving fast and we were still tired from the first swim. It might seem short, but when you’re swimming, it feels *long*. Either way, it’s an experience you *have* to do—but choose your company wisely. On the way back, there’s a stop at Cabo Catoche. Honestly, the snorkeling is pretty disappointing if you’ve done it elsewhere in the world. But the lunch stop at Cabo Catoche is really nice for relaxing (white sand and hammocks).
Thursday, July 9:
Short morning walk to Punta Mosquito at 6 AM. Really nice.
Ferry to Chiquila (330 pesos per person) + ADO bus to Valladolid (300 pesos per person).
In Valladolid, we booked "Casa Lucia" via Booking. The hotel is gorgeous, with a colonial style, and very close to the ADO bus terminal and downtown. It’s super quiet and clean. There’s a shared kitchen you can use with a fridge, microwave, and water dispenser, plus a big table by the pool and a nice indoor terrace. Breakfast was simple but included. The only small downsides were the tiny room and bathroom, no mirror in the room, and a noisy fan.
Friday, July 10:
Not far from the ADO bus terminal is the colectivo station for Chichen Itza. They offer a round-trip to Chichen Itza with an option to stop at Ik Kil cenote on the way back and then drop you off in Valladolid for 370 pesos per person (Ik Kil entrance included).
For the Chichen Itza visit, we’d booked a tour with a guide often mentioned in groups—his name is Juan Pat. He’s a Maya who lives near the site and speaks excellent French. He reserves spots in advance for you and queues up to be the first on-site. It cost 500 pesos per person + entrance fees. His tour lasts 2 hours and focuses mainly on the main pyramid and the ball court. He’s passionate and fascinating, even if some of his claims, as a Maya, might be a little biased. I think it’s *really* important to have a guide—otherwise, you’ll miss so much. You can contact Juan Pat on WhatsApp at +52 985 121 2381.
Afterward, we went to Ik Kil cenote (showers and life jackets mandatory, lockers available). It’s *very* crowded, but still really beautiful with its lush vegetation.
Saturday, July 11:
Since we didn’t have a car but still wanted to visit other cenotes that seemed hard to reach by public transport, we decided to book a taxi for the day. We agreed on 1200 pesos to take us to 3 different cenotes and wait for us at each one. (To find taxis, just look where they park near the ADO bus station.)
He picked us up at Zaci cenote, which we’d walked to. We got there at opening time and were the first ones there—had the place to ourselves for a while! 150 pesos per person. A pretty cenote in the city center with lush vegetation. It’s a bit like Ik Kil but without the deep cylindrical effect.
Cenote Xcanahaltun: the most beautiful cenote we visited. Entry 250 pesos per person. It’s a closed cenote with a hole that lets light in—a cave-like setting. You can kayak inside. There are little fish at the edge that nibble dead skin off your feet. Since it’s closed, the water is *freezing*!
Cenote Palomitas: entry 250 pesos per person. Another stunning closed cenote, even more enclosed than Xcanahaltun. The hole in the ceiling is smaller, so it was pretty dark when we arrived—kind of an eerie vibe. But when the staff turned on the lights, it looked like a "Gothic cathedral" full of bright stalactites.
Cenote Sac Aua: entry 290 pesos per person. The ticket includes a guided cave tour (tip-based). This cenote is really unique with its central island and way less crowded than Suytun. Just so you know, the water is *really* cold in cenotes. In these three, in July, we had the place to ourselves for a while and never saw more than 2 families at once—so peaceful!
Sunday, July 12:
ADO bus to Bacalar (536 pesos per person).
In Bacalar, we stayed via Airbnb with a host named Luli, who offers several rooms with shared bathroom and kitchen.
The room is nicely decorated in a pleasant setting. It’s ideally located near the lagoon and downtown. The shared kitchen is handy. The mosquito net over the bed is useful because there are *a lot* of mosquitoes in Bacalar. Luli provides a water jug, which is really nice. The only big downside is the lack of water pressure in the shower—we had to rinse off by filling a bucket. Also, there’s no real door separating the room from the bathroom. We never met Luli in person, but she was very responsive via messages. The terrace in the middle of the vegetation is lovely.
From the ADO terminal to the place, we took a taxi for 40 pesos. Since this driver was honest about the price (we’d checked beforehand), we decided to use him every time we needed a taxi in Bacalar. Here’s his WhatsApp: +52 983 184 3585.
Monday, July 13:
We did a boat tour on the lagoon with "Bacalar Francophone Activities." Since we were just the two of us, it cost 3500 pesos. If we’d managed to be 4 people, it would’ve been 1000 pesos per person.
We had a private 4-hour tour on the lagoon with Steeve and his very comfortable boat. He’s from Quebec, so his French is perfect. During those 4 hours, Steeve showed us the lagoon’s iconic spots *and* places other boats don’t go. He told us about the lagoon’s history and gave great tips on where to go and where to eat. As a little bonus, he gave us a video taken with his drone during our swimming break.
Tuesday, July 14:
We went to Los Rapidos by taxi (400 pesos round trip) and entry was 225 pesos per person. It’s *very* touristy but really beautiful. You can eat there (expensive), relax, and go down the "rapids" as many times as you want. It’s worth it if you spend a few hours there. You can’t bring in food or drinks—you leave them at the entrance and pick them up on the way out.
Wednesday, July 15:
On Wednesdays, navigation is banned on Bacalar Lagoon, so we’d planned another excursion.
Visit to Calakmul from Bacalar with ABCtours (WhatsApp +52 983 319 8359).
This agency organized a trip from Bacalar to Calakmul with a French-speaking guide. Communication beforehand via WhatsApp was smooth. Mr. Checo, the driver, and Fernando, the guide (who spoke great French), picked us up on the day. Mr. Checo drove very carefully on the long road and always made sure we were comfortable. Fernando is passionate about flora and fauna—he’s a biologist with a degree in ornithology, so he knows *everything* about animals. The slightest sound or song, and he knows what it is. He’s got an eye for spotting them, from the biggest to the smallest.
During the trip, we stopped at km 27 for a short forest walk, then went to see the two main pyramids on the site. On the way back, we stopped at the bat cave for the magical spectacle of millions of bats flying out at dusk. In the end, we saw or glimpsed (some briefly) spider monkeys, howler monkeys, a toucan, 2 tapirs, turkeys, 2 deer, and lots of birds. If, like us, you’re more into flora and fauna than archaeology, I’d *highly* recommend this agency and tour with Fernando.
It’s not cheap, but the road between Bacalar and the site is *long* (3.5 hours). Price: 3900 pesos per person for 2 (3500 for 3, 3200 for 4).
Thursday, July 16:
ADO bus to Playa del Carmen (614 pesos per person).
In Playa del Carmen, we stayed in an Airbnb. The building is on the town hall square, next to the casino.
The best thing about this place is the *location*—super close to Fifth Avenue (La Quinta). The kitchen is pretty basic, but the fridge works well. There are supermarkets nearby. The rooftop pool is really nice. The two big downsides, though, are the soundproofing (you can *hear* the neighbor’s alarm and all the events on the square) and the *total* lack of water pressure in the shower. We had to fill a trash can with water to pour over ourselves. When we told the owner, he said it wasn’t normal and someone would come fix it, but we never heard back. Based on previous reviews, this seems to be a known issue that never gets resolved.
Playa del Carmen is *very* touristy on Fifth Avenue, but in a fun, musical vibe—we never felt unsafe. There are *tons* of little souvenir shops for tourists on this street. There’s a beautiful monumental sculpture on the beach (the two figures meeting in the air), next to which you can see the Voladores show (men climbing a pole, tying themselves with ropes, and descending headfirst while "flying" around the pole). The show is tip-based and happens several times a day. In our opinion, Calle 38 is prettier than Fifth Avenue—it’s lush, green, and quieter, with the sea at the end. Great for an early evening stroll. We had really good meals at great prices at "El Tio Noy" tacos, just a few meters from Fifth Avenue in a side street.
For souvenirs, we’d recommend going to Walmart instead of Fifth Avenue—you’ll find skulls, tequila, mezcal, keychains, mugs, glasses... at good, fixed prices.
Friday, July 17:
We did the excursion to Isla Contoy. Isla Contoy is an uninhabited, highly protected island. Only 200 people are allowed to land per day on a rotating basis, so only a few companies have permission to dock there. Most agencies subcontract the day to a third-party company.
We booked through VRM (Viviendo Riviera Maya), but it was Ocean Tours Mexico that handled the tour. Contoy is a little paradise. We were accompanied by multilingual guides, including French speakers, throughout the day. Steffy gave us info about the island during a short walk on the marked trails, and Leño Tlatemoa kept the mood up on the boat rides with music and dancing. Isla Contoy is *truly* stunning, and the lunch was delicious: grilled fish and chicken, guacamole and tortilla chips, rice, fruit, drinks (everything is brought and taken back by the guides). The snorkeling part was pretty disappointing if you’ve done it in Cozumel, though. The stop at Isla Mujeres isn’t very interesting either—it’s too short to explore, and the island is *extremely* touristy. Still, the excursion was very well organized, and we had a great day (2970 pesos per person).
Saturday, July 18:
We wanted to go snorkeling in Cozumel but thought the prices from French-speaking agencies were too high. Plus, for snorkeling, we figured we didn’t *need* a French-speaking guide.
So we found a much cheaper solution by taking the ferry from Playa del Carmen ourselves and choosing an agency in Playa. The round-trip ferry cost 663.50 pesos per person. Then we took a taxi to the snorkeling boat (100 pesos). The agency we chose is called Mystic Snorkel—they don’t have a physical office. The tour cost 1400 pesos per person. It was a small boat, but that day we were the only ones, so we got a private tour at the group rate. We stopped at 4 different sites, all very different and beautiful. We saw all kinds of fish, corals, a nurse shark, and turtles. El Cielo, with its huge starfish, is *exceptional*. If you’re going snorkeling in the Yucatan Peninsula, this is *the* tour to do—the other sites are pretty "poor" in comparison.
Sunday, July 19:
Morning dive with Triton Diving. I chose the Cozumel dive option. Great experience.
Booking via WhatsApp was easy. On the day of the dive, Selene, who speaks French, was our guide. She’s *very* attentive to the group’s safety. The briefings are clear and precise. In Cozumel, we did 2 very different sites: the first was a drift dive with lots of life—beautiful corals and fish. The second was a wreck, the C53, a 56-meter boat you can enter. Not much marine life, but a beautiful wreck intentionally sunk for divers—still in great condition. An unforgettable moment. Selene even took videos during the dive, which the club sends you for free afterward. I’d *highly* recommend this club.
Just so you know, in Playa del Carmen, the beaches were full of sargassum during our stay, despite barriers and daily cleanup. Locals told us the problem is getting worse and the sargassum is arriving earlier in the season. Tourism has taken a *big* hit this summer, and they’re wondering if tourism can even survive the sargassum season anymore. A lot of tourists are heading to the islands—Isla Mujeres and Cozumel—to enjoy the beaches, as the west side of those islands is sargassum-free.
Monday, July 20:
Colectivo to Puerto Morelos. First, a colectivo toward Cancun that drops you off between Puerto Morelos town and Puerto Morelos beach (40 pesos per person), then another from that junction to the beach (10 pesos per person).
In Puerto Morelos, we’d booked a room via Airbnb at "Piedra del Caribe." *Best* place we stayed in Mexico. It’s an aparthotel. Our room was ready before check-in, so they let us in early. The place matched the description—spacious, with a comfortable king-size bed. The shower had *great* pressure, which isn’t a given in Mexico. The staff was super friendly and welcoming. They let us use the pool, restrooms, and rooftop shower after check-out while we waited for our ride to Cancun Airport. They even kept our luggage. I *highly* recommend this place.
In Puerto Morelos, there was *way* less sargassum than in Playa del Carmen—it was actually swimmable.
We did the snorkeling tour with the fishermen’s cooperative for 450 pesos per person for 2 hours. The reef is close to the beach (you’re not allowed to swim there), so the boat ride is short. It’s not as pretty as Cozumel, but it’s nice and affordable. On Puerto Morelos’s page, you can also access a small, not-very-well-preserved reef. There’s also a cenote in the sea where fresh water mixes with saltwater—the water is murky there. We had a great dinner and excellent cocktails at "La Choza del Puerto."
Tuesday, July 21:
Wandered around Puerto Morelos (check out the church and read everything—it’s entertaining!), relaxed by the hotel pool, and left for Cancun Airport by taxi (400 pesos) booked via InDrive to head back to France.
Our highlights:
- Holbox
- The whale shark tour
- The cenotes
- The local flora and fauna (so present!)
- Isla Contoy
- Cabo Catoche (except for the snorkeling)
What we liked least:
- The bioluminescence (barely visible despite good conditions)
- The food—we found it not very diverse in taquerias
- The constant tipping
- The lack of water pressure in showers (fixed, wall-mounted, no hose or showerhead)
Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions while it’s still fresh in our minds.
Here we go—finally, the big day has arrived! A trip the whole family (my two kids, my husband, and me) had been looking forward to for so long.
To keep it short, we left from Nice, arrived in Namibia on June 25, 2025, and left again on the 21st—four weeks later.
We used an agency for all the camping reservations, activities, and the car rental. At least that side of things was taken care of. Michaël was our contact throughout the planning and the trip itself.
We spent our first night at Londiningi BB. A bit out of the city center but very quiet. The rooms were spacious and clean, and we could eat on-site that evening. Perfect for recovering from the flight.
This travel journal is our second on VoyageForum, following last year’s where we recounted our four weeks in Vietnam.
The goal remains the same: since some members on this site share tips, experiences, and great deals that help us prepare for our trips, we do the same after returning—both to give back a little and in the hope that our experiences might be useful to others in some way.
Our route was as follows: Bangkok, Siem Reap, Krabi, Suratthani, Koh Phangan, Koh Tao, Chumphon, Bang Saphan, Prachuab Khiri Khan, Sam Roi Yod, Hua Hin, Phetchaburi, Bangkok.
Beyond rediscovering Bangkok, our objectives were the long-held dream of seeing Angkor and exploring southern Thailand, much of which isn’t overly touristy.
A quick big thank-you to Barbot, who took the time to answer several of our questions.
12/07/2013
The cheapest flight we found earlier this year was a Paris-Bangkok route with a layover in Moscow for 1440 €, total for two people.
So, this time we tried Aeroflot. Airbus A318 for the first leg, A330 for the second. Nothing particularly annoying to report—the passengers were very calm, the cabin temperature was comfortable, and we had enough legroom.
That said, the quality of the meal trays was pretty mediocre, and the flight attendants weren’t exactly comedians.
We’d like to remind everyone that it’s best to exchange as little money as possible at the airport upon arrival, since the rate is about 5% worse than at city banks.
Of course, we made sure to take the airport exit where you can catch official taxis to avoid getting scammed. So, we queued up, a little lady gave us the ticket, and off we went with the driver.
Generally, this system works well because these drivers are registered, know their duties, and the risks they face if they break the rules. Except that day, right off the bat, we got the scammer of the day. His first move was to snatch the ticket from my wife’s hands—the one you’re supposed to keep in case of a complaint. My husband saw it, but after a full day of travel, we were a bit out of it, and honestly, there was no reason to be suspicious. But once we started driving, the guy refused to turn on the meter. We insisted more and more firmly, but nothing. So, I used the famous method of opening the door and starting to step out of the car. At 40 km/h, that scares the driver more than the passenger. He finally turned on the meter, but that didn’t calm him down—quite the opposite. For the next half-hour, he ruined the ride by demanding extra fees here and there. Having dealt with several scam attempts last year in Vietnam, this wasn’t exactly new, and we were proud of ourselves for staying pretty zen. Still, this guy was a little scary—he was completely wired and aggressive. Honestly, it was hard not to think he was on something. He’d be perfect for a *Scarface* remake. When we finally arrived at the hotel, he followed us to the entrance. We paid the two tolls (25 and 45 baht), gave him the usual 100 baht extra for the ride, and stayed polite but firm. So, meter: 245 baht + 100 baht + 25 and 45 baht for tolls—we paid the exact amount, no way we were tipping this guy. He left furious, but he was already like that before picking us up... Anyway, avoid Mr. Chartree Chidchen, number 089 826 7308, car E2663!
We were so relieved to finally settle in at Feung Nakorn Balcony hotel in the temple district. 42 € per night, great reception, all the staff is friendly. The AC works fine, the bed seemed hard at first but turned out to be comfortable. The hotel is quiet, away from the nightlife, but at this time of year, many places are less crowded than in high season. Even with a nice fish pond and outdoor breakfast area, it’s a decent hotel, though we felt we could’ve found something better.
After a night on the plane, the first afternoon is always a bit of a slog. We napped for a few hours, and when we woke up—guess what—we were starving. We visited a temple across from the hotel (nothing special) and then decided to take the Chao Phraya Express, the river shuttle that serves many piers along the river. It was a really enjoyable experience. The steel gangway wobbles when you board and disembark, the boat sits low in the water, and sometimes you get splashed. During peak times, you’re packed in like sardines, but most of all, there’s that exotic urban landscape passing by, especially the temple rooftops.
At that exact moment, the boat was packed. We didn’t see a ticket booth at the pier, and we tried in vain to pay the few baht for the ride. The cashier on the boat was too busy, and another employee we called didn’t have time to help us. Oh well, we weren’t going to force the issue. Still, this mode of transport is super practical for avoiding traffic, and at the piers, the lines with station names are clearly marked, with colors matching the flags on the boats. Combined with a map like the *Routard* guide, it’s easy to navigate.
We easily made it to the restaurant *Harmonique*, located near one of these piers. It’s a unanimous favorite on this forum, and let us tell you—it’s well-deserved. What a wonderful experience that evening! We only saw the outdoor gazebo because there was no way we were dining inside. It’s not flashy, so those looking for a luxurious setting should look elsewhere.
That night, the staff was a bit slow, and we had to track them down several times to move things along. But oh, my friends—what a feast on the plate! Start with the appetizer platter for two at 250 baht, featuring four specialties, each more tempting than the last, followed by their famous crab curry for 200 baht. There’s *so much* crab in there! The dish is so delicious and rich that when you finish, you feel—how to put it—like it was almost *too* good, to the point where you’re almost put off eating for days. And also, oh yes, we *will* be back. Their satay chicken is just as amazing, and it would be a crime not to mention their generous dessert with ice cream, warm banana, and chocolate, plus their *excellent* almond milkshake.
Later, we took a taxi to Kao San Road, mainly to book a Ko Tao-Chumphon trip for 600 baht per person at the Lomprayah counter. In hindsight, we should’ve booked all three of our trips there right away.
Kao San Road is *ultra*-touristy—better for younger crowds, but it’s still worth seeing. There’s rock ‘n’ roll, hippies, and crowds everywhere.
We walked back to the hotel, and when we got a little lost near a canal, a really nice older Thai man spontaneously appeared out of the night to kindly point us in the right direction.
Finally, a real long night of sleep ahead—we cranked up the AC. Sweet, the vacation has begun!
Hi there,
I just got back from a trip to Sri Lanka from December 18th to January 1st with 2 adults and 2 kids (12 years old).
If it helps, here’s my itinerary.
We left on December 18th from Madrid with Qatar Airways. No complaints. I booked my tickets back in March for 800 € per person. (I flew from Madrid because I live near the Spanish border and was too worried about strikes in France.)
We arrived on December 19th at 4 PM (local time). Before leaving France, I’d booked a taxi through MyTransfer for 59 € to Sigiriya. A van was waiting for us at the airport exit.
A never-ending 3-hour drive to Sigiriya. We stayed at Samana Guesthouse—very simple, clean, with a pool and an excellent Sri Lankan breakfast. Shower and straight to bed.
Friday, December 20th: Beautiful weather, but very humid and hot. We visited Lion Rock (36 € for adults) and then Pidurangala.
I loved both sites—they’re a must-do in my opinion.
Spent the late afternoon by the pool.
Saturday, December 21st: Another gorgeous day. The guesthouse manager offered us a free 2-hour tuk-tuk tour. We first visited a lake, rice fields, the temple, and the Sigiriya market, plus the usual tourist trap—the botanical garden (no pressure to buy anything at the end).
Then we took a tuk-tuk to Dambulla Temple, the Golden Buddha, and the wholesale market.
Sunday, December 22nd: Still beautiful weather. I’d booked a taxi for 8 AM. We did all the long trips by taxi to save time. I’d ask for prices from 2 or 3 WhatsApp taxi agencies 2 days or the day before—super responsive, always got replies within 5 minutes. We headed to Ella (4-hour drive) for 22,000 LKR.
Arrived in the afternoon at Rest Full Homestay—a small, family-run guesthouse. Clean, cozy, and an amazing Sri Lankan breakfast.
In the afternoon, we went to Nine Arches Bridge. It was a Sunday, a Sri Lankan holiday, so it was *packed*—mostly locals and very few white tourists! Even though it was crowded, it was cool because it was all Sri Lankans. We waited an hour for the train. It’s worth seeing, but honestly, I didn’t think it was that amazing.
Then we headed to the station to check if we needed to book tickets for the train to Haputale—turns out, no.
Monday, December 23rd: Beautiful weather. We hiked Ella Rock—a gorgeous trek. The final stretch is steep but shaded, so it wasn’t as tough as I’d read. The whole hike is stunning from start to finish. We saw the train pass twice (one blue, one red) and lots of women picking tea.
After that, we did Little Adam’s Peak. It’s not hard, but it was *packed* with tourists—meh. Luckily, at the top, you can walk a bit farther (down one side and back up) to get some space to yourself.
What I *didn’t* like was the commercial vibe at the big café/restaurant with a pool at the entrance of Little Adam’s Peak. Loud music, all that money being made right next to little souvenir stands run by Sri Lankans or tea-picking women. Felt off.
Ended the day buying souvenirs at one of the few shops we found during the trip.
Tuesday, December 24th: Beautiful weather. Took the train to Haputale. We got to the station 30 minutes before the 9:30 AM train. We could’ve taken 2nd or 3rd class—I went with 2nd (160 LKR per person).
It was crowded, but we managed to get seats—first 2, then 3. Only a 1-hour ride, but I *loved* it—windows and doors open the whole time.
Arrived in Haputale around 11 AM, and the mist was already rolling in.
We walked to our guesthouse, The Mist Holiday Bungalow. Simple but clean, with a great view of the tea plantations. The owner’s wife is Vietnamese and used to work for French tour operators, so her French is still pretty good—helpful for us since our English is terrible. They booked us a tuk-tuk for 4:45 AM the next day (2,000 LKR) to Lipton’s Seat.
Spent the afternoon wandering around Haputale. Not much charm, but there’s a nice fruit and veggie market and a short walk through the tea plantations.
Wednesday, December 25th: Beautiful weather. The tuk-tuk was on time to take us to Lipton’s Seat. We were the first ones there—the sky was just starting to turn pink. In the end, only about ten of us watched the sunrise. The guesthouse had packed us breakfast, and we walked back down (half on the road, half through the plantations). Didn’t see any tea picking since it was Christmas, but the walk was still incredible. We took detours through villages full of kids.
After that, we visited the tea factory. The tour was really interesting, and we took the bus back down to Haputale. Such a great moment—whole families were heading to mass, dressed up and made up. All so beautiful.
At noon, we left for Udawalawe National Park. Taxi for 14,000 LKR. Stayed at River Inn Safari Cottage. *Warning*: It’s the same place as Eagle Safari Cottage. I don’t recommend it. We’d always stayed with families before, but here it was just staff—totally different vibe. The pool was nice but not very clean (water was murky). The bungalow was big and fine, but it was brand new—so new the asphalt floor wasn’t fully dry. It’s in the middle of nowhere, so we had to eat on-site. Couldn’t leave a review on Booking because they never confirmed we’d stayed, and they canceled our reservation the next day.
Thursday, December 26th: Beautiful weather. I’d booked a safari through the hotel for 5:30–10 AM for 54 USD. Honestly, yes, there are a lot of jeeps, but it was great. The kids loved it—we saw everything there was to see.
Left by taxi at 11:30 AM for Welligama (12,000 LKR).
We didn’t stay in Welligama city but at Coconut Beach, between Welligama and Midigama. *Total crush* on the guesthouse: Sky Mountain Café with View. Such a lovely family. The mom makes amazing meals at reasonable prices. The view from the hill over the sea is unreal.
Spent the afternoon walking along the beach.
Friday, December 27th: Beautiful weather. My kids are surfers. Unfortunately, there weren’t any boards their size to rent at Coconut, so we took a tuk-tuk to Welligama Bay (1,000 LKR). They surfed from 8 AM to 5 PM—rental was 5,000 LKR for the day. Meanwhile, we walked the beach and swam. Water was 29°C.
Saturday, December 28th: Beautiful weather, rain from 4 PM until midnight. Same surf day. They were so well-behaved the whole trip, so this was their reward.
Sunday, December 29th: Beautiful weather. Beach day at Coconut. *Warning*: It’s a reef break. For surfers, there are three spots (Coconut Left, Middle, and Right). The boys bodysurfed (with fins) all morning, and at 1 PM, we took the bus to Hikkaduwa.
Stayed at Hotel Universal Beach. Nothing special—right on the water, but the rooms were dark even though they were clean. The manager was super nice, but the rest was meh, and breakfast was mediocre compared to what we’d had before (2 eggs and 3 slices of toast). Plus, it was late—8 AM.
First impression of Hikkaduwa wasn’t great—way too many Russians for our taste.
Monday, December 30th: Beautiful weather. Spent the whole day exploring. Turtle Beach, then the other side of the beach (toward Galle) near the fishing port. The beach there is much wider, with scattered hotels and super quiet. It’s beautiful—I should’ve booked somewhere in that area. Ended up having a great day away from the crowds.
Tuesday, December 31st: Overcast, then beautiful, rain at 4 PM. Had to end the year (and the trip) with some surf. Rented boards for the kids (3,000 LKR per board for the day). Bad luck—the waves were on a reef break but small. Not great for them, but no big deal. They still got out of the water by 2 PM. Walked the beach (which is gorgeous), had a juice, and went for a swim. Then back to surfing in the rain at 4 PM.
Wednesday, January 1st: Left by taxi at 5 AM (18,000 LKR). Flight at 10 AM. Arrived in Madrid at 8 PM.
I could have titled my travel journal like Carmen: "Some trips are born twice." Indeed, we had considered this destination back in February 2020. However, an honest tour operator advised us against traveling at that time due to the climate. So, we gave up and opted for Guatemala instead (see "On the Mayan Lands" on this site).
So, why this title? When I was in primary school, over 65 years ago, the illustrations in my history books (Machu Picchu) and geography books (Lake Titicaca) made me dream, and those images stayed in my mind. It took until 2026 to finally make this dream come true!
We prepared our trip with Tout Pérou, a French-speaking "agency." Everything was handled via email and WhatsApp exchanges with our contact: Laurent, who was both competent, friendly, and full of good advice.
For 200 €, Tout Pérou provided us with drivers and guides whenever we wanted, helped us buy our domestic flights (cheaper when purchased in Peru), booked shuttles between airports and hotels, and got us a discount on the train ride to Aguas Calientes, as well as on the buses between Chivay and Puno and between Puno and Cusco. In short, Laurent took care of all the logistics and the Machu Picchu tickets. It was up to us to book our hotels. Tout Pérou provided a list, but we weren’t obliged to follow it. Another advantage of the package: we didn’t have to pay in advance; we paid the service providers directly day by day.
We didn’t meet Laurent in person because he was on vacation in Europe. Before his departure, he gave us a briefing, provided a summary table with the entire program, the service providers, their phone numbers, their fees, the schedules, and gave us plenty of advice (money, exchange, safety, etc.). After returning at the end of our stay, he kept checking in on us.
Lastly, we had also gathered information from Arnaud Lagadec, who runs a hotel in Cusco and offers tours of the region. He gave us a lot of useful information. Another contact: Thomas Montaigne, very friendly, who runs an agency in Arequipa (Agence Pérou Exclusif).
Day 1 – Paris to Lima
Foreword
I’ll share our trip without any pretension—I don’t have the talent of some contributors on this forum—and I’ll illustrate it with a few photos (taken with an ordinary smartphone). My comments are personal and only reflect my own views. So, please be kind! Feel free to comment on my story as you like, but let’s avoid pointless debates.
Even though we live in the south of the Paris region, true to our habits when the flight is in the morning, we chose to spend the night before our departure in a hotel near CDG and parked our car in a parking lot in Garches. This way, we avoid the stress that often comes with traveling around Paris (accidents, roadworks, traffic jams, etc.).
Check-in and border control went smoothly on that Sunday morning. Our Air France flight was uneventful. In Lima, border control took a particularly long time, and for the first time, we didn’t get an entry visa stamped in our passports.
As planned, a driver took us to the Miraflores district, where our hotel was located. We were surprised by the numerous signs about possible tsunamis, having forgotten that Peru is prone to such events and regularly experiences earthquakes. We’d see the consequences of these during our journey.
Exhausted from the early wake-up, the 13-hour flight, and the 7-hour time difference, we had dinner at the hotel before a restful night.
Note that this day was Peru’s presidential election day. As a result, we weren’t served beer—the sale of alcohol was banned that Sunday.
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Our first stop was just a few kilometers from Marrakech, at a lovely house perfect for relaxing and recharging before continuing. It’s called Bleu House, a little paradise on the outskirts of Marrakech. The welcome was very warm, with a beautiful pool and a lovely garden.
Next, we headed toward the Tichka Pass. The road has really improved in recent years—it’s much easier to drive now. No more getting stuck behind trucks, and today, the construction is practically finished.
Morocco has turned green after the recent rains. It’s a joy for the herds and shepherds.